Dawn Of Thunder: GateWar Interludes
by Chaos Eternus
Summary: A Series of short stories and one shots set in the Dawn Of Thunder StargateMulti crossover universe.
1. 1: Plague World

**GateWar Interludes**

**1: PlagueWorld **  
by Chaoseternus

"GC-Four, you have a go"

The immortal words ring in my ear for the first time, GC-four, Gatecrasher team four, our very first solo mission. Okay, so it was supposed to be a _simple _ mission, find out why the Goa'uld put a great big honking Run Away' sign outside the gate when there was clearly an abandoned mothership visible on the surface in the distance.

Whilst Stargate Command _loved _ the thought of adding a mothership to the navy, no doubt trying to get a rare one-up over the RSS, the situation was enough to make them nervous. The Goa'uld don't abandon warships, especially motherships for no reason and they certainly don't mark a world as unsafe unless they really have to, it's a sign of weakness.

Of course, the Malp picked nothing up that could explain this, no dangerous level of radiation, perfectly breathable atmosphere... And no movement.

At all.

That was what had Carter worried of course, I mean, there was plant life all around, though no trees which would disappoint General O'Neill were he here, but no signs at all of any animal life larger then an insect. Whilst such a situation could have evolved naturally it was extremely unlikely, and yes, the Malp could just have missed the signs of any of its sensors but the lack of animal life, combined with the warning off sign was making everyone wonder about a Bio-hazard. To put it bluntly, about a bacterial or viral contamination, hence why a GC team was being sent, our suits were fully sealed after all.

Unfortunately, our apothecary was quick to confirm Stargate Commands worst fears, within minutes of placing a sampling of this worlds bacteria on a sterile section of meat we had brought through the gate, the meat was visibly being broken down.

Which frankly scared the hell out off me and the rest of my team, I know we had checked the seals on our suits but one leak and well, I _really _ didn't my meat' being visibly broken down thank you.

Unluckily, the job of investigating the bacteria, virus whatever it was went to the apothecary and the Doctors the other side of the gate, leaving us with little to do. So, I decided to leave the Docs to it, and took myself off to the mothership, along with Dobson and Bane. Raven and Phalanx I left to guard the gate and the apothecary.

Even in our servo-augmented Power Armoured suits, it took three hours to reach the mothership and we found it in a somewhat derelict state. It was obviously an older vessel, Cheops class and it bore the Mark of Ra, the first System Lord we had killed all those years ago. There were plants and bushes growing right up to the base and even in nocks and crannies over the ship itself, it was clearly weatherworn and even stained but despite that, I could not see any obvious damage to the ship itself. I could see nothing that might prevent it being operational, externally at least.

As we came up to the base of the ship, we begin to see signs of how quickly death had come to this world. There were the bones and armour of Jaffa scattered around the base of the ship, contorted and distorted, more then a few looked like they had broken their own bones as they tried to escape the horrific pain being inflicted upon them.

It was chilling to put it mildly, but I wasn't going to turn away. We were here now and it wasn't as if we would be leaving this world in a hurry. Might as well see if we could discover anything useful in the ship, such as how exactly this thing started in the first place, or, knowing the Goa'uld, exactly how it had escaped.

The ship itself was filled with more dead Jaffa, each more horrifically distorted and contorted then the last. It wasn't long before we noticed that the bones of the Jaffa were starting to show old signs of scaring and the firm conviction fell upon me that something had escaped, and those unlucky beings had gotten a concentrated dose, thereby suffering the worst of any being on this planet.

It wasn't long before we found the most likely source, what appeared to be an old lab, but it wouldn't be of any help to us, it was scorched and burned, the damage radiating from several points on the roof, besides obvious laboratory equipment and the doors. My first thought was that somebody had known that what they were investigating was a threat to themselves, and had rigged destruct charges they hoped would prevent escape. If that was what truly happened, and unless we found a working terminal, it was unlikely we would ever know for sure, then their attempts at containment had obviously failed.

Still, a quick check of the ship showed that there was no obvious damage internally and as far as I could tell, if the little matter of an extreme biohazard could be dealt with, the vessel could be commissioned into service. Unfortunately, that biohazard would make recommissioning the ship an extremely tricky proposition.

Then word got through, a circling UAV had spotted animal life in the distance and could we please take a closer look and confirm?

Of course we could, this thing, whatever it was, had killed every piece of animal life for miles around so finding any animal life alive at all was a bonus, if we could find out exactly _why _ this group of animals had survived when no others had, then we had a much greater chance of figuring out how to return safely to Earth and maybe, just maybe, taking a little' present with us.

The animals, which we could see clearly as we approached amount to a whole colony, deer-like creatures nervously eating grass and plants next to a lion-like creature that looked like it should be a carnivore, not the herbivore it was acting like. There were even birds, darting across the sky, but careful, always careful not to cross a boundary we couldn't see.

Around this little oasis of life, there was death. Mounds and mounds of bones from birds, those deer's, it really looked like there was every type of bone imaginable in the pile, a pile which vanished into the distance, visibly surrounding the little oasis.

I naturally reported this to the apothecary, and to put it mildly, he was interested. He said it sounded like it wasn't anything the animals had or were that was protecting them, but like it was something different about the area they were in. That much was obvious even to me, and there was already this claxon ringing in my mind, screaming that the answer was right in front of me but it must have been too obvious, for my conscious mind couldn't figure it out.

We carefully skirted the oasis, not wanting to move into it ourselves, it might have increased our chances of survival yes, but we had no idea if we would be carrying the disease, whatever it was, into an otherwise uncontaminated area, and we were certainly contaminated.

However, I wasn't ready for exactly _how _ contaminated we were.

I certainly wasn't ready to collapse, my foot giving way beneath me as it suddenly burst out into the most unimaginable agony ever. I was a trained soldier, not just that, but as part of Gatecrasher basic I had received additional training in resisting interrogation and pain and yet it took merely three seconds for me to lose my mind to the pain. I had no control; I just writhed, my muscles firing erratically, my body contorting as the pain overtook me, threatening to tear my own bones out of joint.

Then, abruptly, the pain changed, it was still unimaginable pain, but a different pain. It was enough for me to regain some sense, to realise that whilst I still had no control over my body, that whilst my heart was beating to dangerous levels, I wasn't writhing any more. My muscles had in fact locked.

It took a few seconds longer to realise that it was heat I was feeling, heat _inside _my armour.

Then, it was gone, just a lingering burning, aching that screamed at my senses. Unsurprisingly, I collapsed unconscious.

* * *

I don't know how long I was out, but the first thing I saw was Dobson, out of uniform, in obvious discomfort due to the burns that seemed to mar his body but happy.

"Your awake good, we weren't sure if you were ever going to wake up"

"What happened?"

Dobson frowned, "a seal failed on your suit, near you left foot, which is gone by the way, the damage was extensive enough the even with the limited view that could get of it through my helmet cam, the Doctors back at base ordered it be cut off"

"But" I paused, "I can still feel it"

Dobson sighed, "I'm a medic, not a Doctor, but I think that's normal. Unfortunately, I have no idea when we will be able to get a Doc or the Apothecary to take a proper look at it"

A thought niggled at my mind, and I starred at Dobson, but I wasn't running at anywhere near full steam and it took me a few seconds to put the question I wanted to ask into words, "When did you get burnt?"

He winced, "as soon as you started convulsing, these small monkey types appeared, threw you into one of the hot springs. Managed to get your armour off too, they seem to be quite intelligent... then, they went after us. Bane is still hiding; they didn't even leave him his pants"

He frowned, "they left us alone after dunking us though, burned we might be, but nobodies watching us as if we were a threat anymore"

The claxon that had been ringing in my mind before my collapse suddenly silenced, "Dobson"

He looked at me, worried.

"What is the most basic way to kill a bacterium?"

He looked at me puzzled, "penicillin, bleach all these have been tried already, they don't work"

I sighed, wishing, just wishing that for a second, the pain would all go away, "we're surrounded by hot springs, this is the only oasis of animal life on the planet, its got to be at least 10 degrees hotter here then at the mothership, or the gate..."

Dobson still hadn't gotten it, "so?"

"Heat! If this is a bacteria, then it's most likely very vulnerable to heat!"

His mouth widened into an O, then he dashed off and with a groan, I closed my eyes and feel unconscious.

* * *

They destroyed our suits of course, they had too many small nocks and crannies where this beast of a bacteria could survive and my neighbours no doubt think I have a really bad sunburn thanks to a second dose of heat, this time courtesy of Stargate Medical but my teams alive, I'm alive, albeit relearning how to walk, this time with an artificial foot so all works out well.

The world itself is still out of bounds but it's a weakened threat, we know how to deal with the bacteria that caused so much pain and destruction now. I have little doubt that at some point an effort will be made to retrieve that Mothership, maybe even find a way to cleanse the world of what has to be the most dangerous bacteria I have ever heard of.

They confirmed that of course actually, the apothecary took five minutes to spot it was a bacteria; he just didn't pass that along to _us, _for which he has been disciplined.

There is even this hope that some of the survivors could be transplanted to a safe world, one without the bacteria which forced them to hide in such a small oasis but it will be some time before we will get that far.

Still

One day we will return to plague world.


	2. 2: The Line

**GateWar Interludes**

**2: The Line  
by Chaoseternus**

_"Hold the line! Do not let the Drakh get the station!" _

Not that she was much of a station of course, still very much a incomplete skeletal construction, but it represented something greater, it couldn't be allowed to die this day, I wouldn't let it.

Unfortunately, the Drakh had other ideas. How they had learned the location of the _Babylon _ station was unknown, and was for the moment unimportant, we just had to deal with the forces arrayed against us and hope we survived this day.

"_Yorktown_ signals they are on their way, but they're 30 minutes out... Stingray's just fifteen minutes out, no-one else has responded yet"

Damn it! that just left my _Prometheus _ and a small fleet of Alliance warships to defend _Babylon _ against a significantly larger Drakh force. They chose the perfect moment to catch us with our pants down again! They must _still _ have agents inside the alliance command structure, despite our best efforts to root them out.

But again, a question for another time.

"Starboard flank is faltering sir"

_"Set a course for the starboard flank, weapons, I want guidance locks on those cruisers; let the Minbari deal with the fighters" _

The _Prometheus _responded like the champ she was and I had to stifle a momentary grin at the thought that this, the flagship of Stargate Command, the first Tau'ri built warship was now mine to Command. Only five days I had occupied this centre seat, but it really felt like I belonged already.

"Gauss range on the first cruiser in 15 seconds..."

_"Weapons, reset priorities for pulse weapons, inbound missiles 1, inbound fighters 2, other fighter contacts 3" _

"Aye sir, resetting"

I was just glad that Carter... that is, Samantha Carter had redesigned the pulse lasers controls, the old set-up had a distinct tendency to prioritise based on how close the contact was, at least with this set-up which so far only the newest or most recently refitted vessels had, it was far easier to change priorities based upon the tactical situation.

The ship shuddered then, and before I was even told I knew the main batteries were firing, sending swarms of gauss rounds at the Drakh. I just hoped it would be enough; we were bingo for missile armament, an annoying little detail which greatly reduced our destructive capability.

Not that they would have had much effect in all honesty, the races in this area seemed to have far better missile defences then the Goa'uld or the Aschen, it was entirely possible even if we could fire off a salvo, that they would never survive to hit their targets. Still, it was an option and in battle options equalled more chances at survival.

Then, the ship began to _really _ rock, and this time it was incoming fire. Luckily, unlike the rest of the warships on _both _ sides of the battle, _Prometheus _ was shielded and could take quite a bit of incoming fire. Still, I was dreading the day Anubis showed a bit of sense and started giving the Drakh shields.

_"Get us in closer! Weapons, helm, co-ordinate, pick us a target and we'll do a trench run, stem to stern!" _

Needless to say, being raked end to end by Gauss fire at close range wasn't a healthy thing for a warship and by the time we turned around to run back down another Drakh ship, the first was burning merrily, clearly out of control.

The second ship, which we hit as we headed back through the Drakh fleet towards alliance lines had been warned, and we received far more fire from them then we had the first ship. Unfortunately for them, a few other Drakh Captains had figured out what we were doing too and sent bursts or weapons fire our way, which as we were evasive, as is normal for a Tau'ri ship in Combat, mostly splattered against our target cruiser, causing far more fire then our own fire.

That vessel blew utterly before we reached safety and we were forced to show a clean pair of heels as we dived back behind the wall of mainly Minbari warships, vengeful fire splattering across our rear shields and lighting up space around us.

We had done our job though; our distraction had given the Alliance forces on that flank time to regroup and they were once again holding. The centre was weak though, very close to collapse and that was where we headed next.

The centre was being swamped by fighters, far too many for the Minbari and Narn vessels too handle. Unfortunately, our own fighter defence whilst powerful wasn't numerous, if you get the distinction, and even with fighters swarming in from the flanks to assist, I was seriously worried that we would be seeing leekers before too long.

Still, we had no choice but to try our best to destroy everyone of the fighters and we were killing them in droves but it wasn't enough. The Narn and Minbari vessels were dropping like flies under concentrated assaults from the fighters which might not have been especially manoeuvrable, but their weapons packed a significant punch for their size.

And yes, we had leekers.

Our _F-302 _ fighters which had been left as the final defensive line over the skeleton of the _Babylon _ station were now reporting enemy contacts more and more frequently, and whilst they were killing them quite swiftly thanks to the _F-302s _ far superior mobility, the superstructure of the station was already taking damage.

I don't know how it happened, for the life of me I can pinpoint the exact moment things changed but the line collapsed. Within seconds, we seemed to go from being one warship of many, destroying fighters by the dozen, the next, we were on our own, surrounded by the Drakh and watching as fighters dove for the station, their weapons tearing into the structure, mangling it, destroying it.

Our fighters had left, seeing the swarms of Drakh heading towards their position they had signalled their intention to retreat and jumped into hyper. Around us, the flanking fleets were fighting hard, but with the collapse of the centre, they were being outflanked themselves and were dying fast.

The taste of bitter retreat in my mouth, I signalled the General Retreat.

Behind us, we left the ashes of a dream, of hope.

And somehow, I had to tell Weir.

 _"Weir? Its Sheridan, I'm afraid I have some bad news..." _


	3. 3: Guardian

**_GateWar Interludes_**

_**3: Guardian**  
by Chaoseternus_

_"Guardian, you are clear to depart bay, please follow Blue-line to southern exit route. Be advised incoming traffic, MGB Gunner inbound on Red-line from Eastern. As always, exiting vessel has right of way" _

Her tone was dry, dull and official as always but I knew Flight Controller Hauptman, 'Patsy' to her friends better then most, after all, it was her bed I was sleeping in the night before. Luckily for me, regs don't cover civilians, even those recruited from the ATC tower at Atlantic City International.

Still, at this point we had the... somewhat _interesting _ task of manoeuvring _Guardian _ out of her dedicated bay, along the 'wide till you try moving a MTB along them corridors' that led from each of the secured and buried bays the MTBs were kept to the much larger corridors, tunnels really that led to the exit routes. That day, we had Southern, Blue exit which meant we would exit the tunnel into a cave and flash out into the sun (assuming it was day outside, frankly you easily lost track of time when you're either in space or stuck under ground) at most fifty feet above the water.

It was insane as hell yes, but it was _fun. _Compared to Gold, or Western exit which was the reserve, or hidden exit anyways. That was a true nightmare to get out of, but it was set up in the first place because they didn't expect anyone to think such an insane exit route would be used. May i just say that reasoning like that makes me wonder about the sanity of Command sometimes?

Eastern (Red) was the easy one, large door set into a cliff far back from the waters edge, that one even had a runway. Not that it mattered too much, when all was said and done, you still had those bloody awful tunnels to move your MTB or MGB through before you could sign off. Command keeps promising us tractors and doilies to shift our warcraft through the corridors, which would have been far safer but so far they haven't materialized. Annoying, but what can you do?

I mean, it wasn't as if we _wanted _ to use our manoeuvring burners inside the tunnels but command plays merry hell about the damage it causes and has even said we can't have our tractors till we stop causing so much damage Again, I question the sanity of command, or at least, some of the paperpushers at Stargate Command. They should at least have got the tractors out before we hit full squadron strength, well, when they see the repair budget for next quarter I'm sure they will wish they had.

We passed _Keeper _ as we hit the outer chamber of the launch bay, _Keeper _ being our Alert Five warcraft for today and punching up our speed to the glorious 10kmph we quickly cross into the final launch chamber where we stop. As you run our final check-list, a blast shield rises up behind you, ready in theory to protect the station against our wash or us, should we come a cropper. Emphasis, thanks to an admin screw up, is very much on that 'in theory'.

Twenty minutes after beginning power-up, we finally launched, dancing over the waves for a moment before hitting the sky at a 45degree angle. After transmitting our ID to _Defender _ where she lay in orbit over the Alpha site and headed out for the first stage of our patrol.

It was supposed to be a simple patrol of the nearby systems, none of which had a working Stargate, and more often then not, was quite boring. Unfortunately it seemed fate had other plans for us, as in the very first system of our patrol we came upon a patrol of _Al-kesh _ bombers.

Which was a problem; time was if you saw anything Goa'uld you could just _shoot _ but the biggest users of Goa'uld technology nowadays were Maktenos, currently allied with us, and the Free Jaffa Nation, also allied. Following them, was Anubis (not likely to be in this area of space), the Tok'ra, the Cylons (used the technology but not the ship designs) and the finally the minor leagues, several wandering bands of rogues, mercenaries and a few independent worlds which had one way or another gotten access to a small stock of Goa'uld equipment and keep a hold of it.

We had no real way of knowing which applied in this case, but the vessel was no broadcasting any IFF signals which ruled out Maktenos and the Free Jaffa. Oh yes, and they had promptly opened fire upon us, a very good indicator that they were hostile.

We had put shields up and sent a contact report as soon as we detected someone inside the patrol zone of course, the Alpha Site, in particular its location was a closely guarded secret and if that had been compromised in anyway, base needed to know it soonest. As soon as the _Al-kesh _ opened fire, the computers instantly blipped off a warning to base whilst we got stuck in. In truth though, the poor fools should have run, a lone _Al-kesh _was not a real match for a _Blastboat _ class MTB except in the hands of a master and these guys were indifferent.

It took a careful burst of just three gauss rounds, supplemented by fire from the pulse lasers to shut their shields down, then it was boarders away as the bulk of my crew left via the ring-transporters for the more interesting phase of the operation, capturing whoever it was that decided my ship was a target for interrogation by the Intel boys.

By the time that was done, base had confirmed Full Alert status and _Defender _had jumped out to join us, being replaced on overwatch by _Keeper _ from the Alert Five slot.

A quick trip back to base with our prize then we had to take up the Alert Five slot whilst we wrote up our reports, _Keeper _took over our patrol and _Defender _ took back her position as Overwatch.

Then word came in, on the third system of the patrol, _Keeper _ had signalled contact, only their contact, a _Tel'tac _ had legged it, abandoning the system. With confirmation of more then one Goa'uld ship in the area, a decision was made to increase the alert status, not an easy decision considering that to defend the Alpha Site, we had only six MTBs, no fighters and that after the Alert blew over, we would still need to maintain a ship on overwatch and one on Alert Five at least. It was bad enough trying to juggle the schedule under normal circumstances

_Keeper _stayed in the third system, watching carefully for any activity until she was joined by the fifth boat of our squadron, the MGB _Gunner _ then they resumed the patrol. Our sixth and final boat, _Artillery _, an MGB launched, joining _Defender _on overwatch, and _Paladin _ was sent to the Alert Five slot in the Eastern launch bay.

We sat there for the four hours it took for _Keeper _and _Gunner _to complete the patrol doing little more then patrol writing, sleeping for those lucky few who could find room and twiddling our thumbs but the patrol arrived back in system, late but reporting no additional contacts.

The Intel boys however had had more then enough time to start working their magic and the crew of the _Al-kesh _ had been forced to talk. What they said was interesting, they were once Apothis's Jaffa, but had switched allegiance at his death, and then switched again and again and again as their masters kept dieing. Finally convinced their masters were not Gods, they decided to go pirate and dragged a few like minded humans and Jaffa along for the ride. They had thought this area of space would be a good hide-out, just as we had, but they hadn't expected us to be in the area.

At which point, the mission became simple, the secrecy of the Alpha Site was paramount and we had to see to it that not a single one of these pirates escaped to let word out that there was Tau'ri activity in the area, one way or the other. Unfortunately, the ace in the pirates hole was a _Ha'tak _, killable if we took our whole squadron out but it would mean leaving the Alpha Site itself unmasked.

Twelve Hours after first firing on the _Al-kesh _ during our abortive patrol, the Squadron launched from the Alpha Site for our first Full Squadron operation, the utter destruction of the pirates that threatened our home.

Unsurprisingly, it turned out the pirates hadn't been entirely honest with us and as soon as we arrived at the supposed location of the Pirate base we found not one _Ha'tak _ but two, plus their attendant support craft.

Making a mental note to have a word with the interrogators back at base, I ordered a flank speed advance, hoping we could catch the _Ha'taks _before they started launching the rest of their fighters and bombers thereby reducing the number of ships and weapons they could bring to bear against us.

It worked, the speed of our swift advance outpacing the reaction times of the pirate crews, they easily got their shields up in time, they would have to be idiots to leave their bridges unmanned after all, but it was the MGBs _Gunner _ and _Artillery _ that opened fire first, the rounds from their capital ship grade Gauss rifles splattering across the first _Ha'tak, _master designate one.

Seconds later, we hit gauss range for the cut-down rifles used on the MTBs and now concentrated fire from all six craft was pounding master one, with enough random fire being sent at the section of shields covering master twos launch bays to make any Jaffa think twice about launching. That goes double when you consider that these Jaffa were in it for themselves, not for their Gods', a minor little detail which meant survival would be their game, not dying gloriously in the name of the God Insert-name-here. In combat, that apparently minor detail actually makes a lot of difference.

The Jaffa had woken up however and now master one was showing all the signs of having a crack gunner at the controls, something we would have been more then happy to do without.

_Paladin _ was taking a heavy beating, being hit far more often then she was being missed by master one. Master two was busy firing at my _Guardian _ but not doing a particularly effective job of it.

Then, we hit effective torpedo range and quickly fired off a full spread at Master One, before quickly breaking off, covering a rather battered _Paladin. _ The gunner on master one showed his stars however, and he diverted his fire from us to the torpedoes, firing bursts of energy at the projectiles, quickly and rather astoundingly managing to destroy a full half of the spread.

The last twelve impacted however, chewing already weakened shields to shreds and master one began to manoeuvre to hide behind master two, probably just long enough to get their shields back to strength. This couldn't be allowed to happen, and despite the fact that our tubes were not yet reloaded, I ordered a charge on master twos position, intending to dive around the back of master two, now clearly a badly crewed vessel and finish off master one.

It might be worth noting here that despite the exceptional gunnery skills displayed by master one, these vessels both appeared to be unmodified _Ha'taks _ and therefore in all likelihood neither vessel had been in the service of Maktenos or Anubis.

Our five ships ( _Paladin _ had been left behind) quickly approached master two, main guns raking her shields and dealing with the occasional _Al-kesh _ that attempted to threaten us before diving underneath master two to reach the more dangerous master one. It was clear from our scans as we came up under master two that one was actually in pretty good shape, they had a collapsed shield sector definitely, but the rest of the hull was still well protected. At which point, I decided to reuse a manoeuvre Harris had first used with _Blastboat _ herself, diving through the destroyed shield sector and raking the hull with pulse laser fire.

Unfortunately, we were far too close for gauss weapons and pulse lasers aren't the best anti-armour weapons but with concentrated fire they will break through. That was my plan at least, but _Keeper _ as it turned out had plans, which involved an otherwise dead missile, the ring transporters and a detonator.

I really wish that they had warned me about that first; it was somewhat of a shock to see an internal explosion blow out a hull segment in an area of master ones hull that hadn't even been fired upon. Still, it did the job and sensors quickly detected fires inside the _Ha'tak _in several areas. Knowing that was likely to keep them busy for a while, we moved back outside the shield perimeter and began firing gauss rounds through the destroyed shield segment. Perhaps I should have tried that first, its not really important now but the _Ha'tak _ was doomed at this point, even with master two attempting to draw us away, which we ignored, she had internal fires, a shield segment which we were beginning to suspect was down permanent and weapons fire now hitting areas inside her hull.

Power went off across master one twenty minutes after we first engaged her, earning her an instant relegation to a Sierra, or non-threat designation.

At which point, rejoined by _Paladin, _I ordered the squadrons guns and tubes pointed very aggressively at master two and sent a transmission suggesting' that they surrender, promising their survival if they did so. The vessel did so.

_Initial Verbal Report Given by Captain Grissom on the capture of the Ha'taks Sword of Apothis (Intact), Godly Wraith (severely damaged) _

_Official (and hopefully more to the point) Report will follow. _

_Co Alpha Site"_


	4. 4: Battle

**GateWar Interludes**

**4: Battle **  
by Chaoseternus

"Maintain formation! Do _not _ allow yourselves to become separated! United we stand!"

It was a minor annoyance to have to shout to be heard over the pickup, but a near hit to his bridge had damaged that. He would put up with it, not that he had much choice. He couldn't after all transfer to another ship in the midst of a battle.

"My Lord, formation is holding, but the left flank is weakening, the Drakh may be able to force their way through soon enough"

Maktenos nodded, his eyes flicking quickly to the relevant tactical display. The Jaffa was right, good for him.

"Pull forward a _Cheops, _three _Ha'tens _ and six _Ha'taks _from the rear to reinforce"

That should be enough, it would have to be enough, the reserve of vessels he had placed to the rear to reinforce any faltering sections of the battleline was already severely depleted. With these latest vessels being moved to the front, the reserve now consisted of five of his own pride, the _Ha'ten _ class and sixteen _Ha'taks. _

The ship rocked, and Maktenos stifled a grimace, glad that the extra belt he had ordered added to his command chair had kept him rooted to his seat but more then a little annoyed at the necessity. No-one had yet figured out an inertial dampner which could keep up 100 with the effects of combat however.

The ship rocked again, but this time he caught the source out the corner of his eye.

"Concentrate fire, all Command group ships to concentrate on target Hostile-81"

He watched with grim satisfaction as the target vanished, abruptly boiling into oblivion under the weight of fire from the one-hundred and twelve surviving ships of his command squadron.

That would teach them not to fire upon him.

But still... this was a battle of attrition and he hated those. He couldn't afford those, too many trained and skilled warriors were lost each and every single time, the ships were secondary, far easier to replace but trained warriors... Whether she liked it or not, Pierce _had _ taught him that at least.

He glanced over each tactical display, and then nodded slightly.

"Pull the last of the reserve forward to join the Command Group. Pull the rear guard forward and the flanks in, I was us in _tight _ formation, move weakened ships to the centre, we're going to stage a breakthrough"

Of course, however much he didn't want to lose trained warriors, be they Jaffa or Human Trustees, he had to weigh that against the needs of the battle, of the war. One thing the System Lords had never figured out, thankfully, the uses of a cost/benefit analysis.

In this case, best to finish of the battle, fast.

"Inform all ships I want concentrated and coordinated fire, intention is to smash the centre of the enemy formation then move onto the flanks"

Of course, neither had they figured out that if you _tell _ a warrior what you want done, it usually increases their drive to complete the mission, and their efficiency, and in a battle like this, every edge counts

"Ships in position sir, formation is tight but the Drakh are beginning to capitalise on the easier firing solutions offered"

Maktenos nodded, that was expected. After all, it was far easier to fire at a tight formation then a loose one, if you missed your main target you stood a much greater chance of hitting somebody else instead.

"All ships... ahead flank! And maintain your formations!"

Of course, this was the part he hated the most. He could set up a battle as best he could, push the odds in his favour. He could dictate strategy and purpose, but in the end, it always came down to individual Captains, individual ships and how they reacted to what was happening around them.

In a real furball like this, there was nothing a Commander could do except sit back, watch the fireworks and chew his nails to the quick

If they remembered their training, their orders then they would have a much greater chance of survival

If

Maktenos watched, mouth chewing the nails of his host as the icons represented ships on his tactical display met and blurred into one another. In seconds, the bulk of the tactical displays vanished. Too many close contacts, too much fast manoeuvring to really tell who was who.

All he was left with was a solid blue ball of his forces, surrounded by the glowing red of hostiles, the Drakh. He ignored the rocking, shuddering of the ship around him, it was insignificant, if there was truly a danger the crew knew well enough to warn him, he had to maintain sight of the displays.

"We've lost momentum... damnit!" he cursed, then tapped the transmitter back on, "concentrate fire forward"

He waited a beat, just to see some indication on the displays that his order was being displayed, then barked, across the bridge this time, "Ahead slow, press us against the Drakh centre, hard!"

He turned his gaze back to the displays, unconsciously chewing the nails once more. Then he noticed it, a slight shift of his blue forces against the marks of space, a compression of the line of Red vessels.

They were moving again, not being held stationary by the press of Drakh Vessels around them. Good.

He smiled wider, the line of blue vessels in front of the fleet was dimming, losing its intensity, then, the displays reset and for that small segment of the battle alone, individual ships started to appear.

"Press forward!" he bellowed, anxious to make himself heard. If they could break through...

Then, almost in an instant they were through, and Maktenos almost smiled as he realized that he might just win this.

"Turn formation! I was us on the left flank before they start to consolidate!"

His gaze resting firmly on the displays, he forced his hands firmly into his lap; disgusted somewhat by the iron taste of blood within his mouth from the depredations he had caused his hands. His blue turned, on masse, charging towards the thinner of the two red threads on the display.

Maktenos hid a gleeful grin... massacre. His forces were showing their better training, their faster responses clearly. His fleet had tightened up, turned and was charging on the Drakh who were only know starting to turn towards his forces.

They weren't fast enough.

The flank forces hadn't reformatted fast enough and had been... well, flanked he thought joyfully. The solid centre of his fleet was bearing down on the thin edges of the Drakh, they would be able to just rollover most over the Drakh ships, they might even kill the whole flanking force

He watched, grinning, almost bouncing in his seat, as the display showed the results, his solid blue core hit the thin red line and the red line just _vanished. _

A part of him felt sorry for the Drakh who were being massacred just because they were stupid enough to follow the dark ascendant, but he ignored it. It was him and his people or them, and personally, he chose them each and every time.

He frowned, sitting forward, more seriously contemplating the displays in front of him, the larger of the two Drakh flanking forces was heading, his own battlegroup was in danger of being flanked, yes he had weight of numbers now but it wouldn't be pretty.

"Signal the rearguard and right flank fleets to finish them off, command group and left flank fleet will deal with the oncoming"

Maktenos grimaced, his fleet was turning... had in fact turned fast enough to meet the oncoming Drakh, but the formation seemed to have lost a lot of its cohesiveness, already he could see the emblems of a few individual ships on his flanks. That wasn't good.

He tapped the transmitter, shouting into it to be heard once more, "all ships, tighten formation!"

He hoped they just needed to be reminded, but he knew that many of his Human servants would be starting to get tired now, this battle had lasted... Damn, three hours now in total.

He wanted this over.

The thin blue line met a more concentrated red line on his displays and Maktenos once again forced his hands into his lap as he tasted blood in his mouth.

Once again, it was attrition. This time however, the Drakh had the tighter fire, the more concentrated fire and Maktenos started to be really worried that he might actually lose this.

Then, with startling suddenness a wave of blue poured across the screen, slamming into the thin red line of Drakh and with a smile, he recognised the insignia for the rearguard and right flank fleets buried in the mass of vessels.

Mission complete, one massive wave of Drakh reinforcements wiped out. He would love to be the fly on the wall when Anubis was informed about _this. _


	5. 5: Live Free

**GateWar Interludes**

**thank you reviewers:  
greyangle  
rankukonalpha1  
wbh21c  
**

**Five: Live Free!  
by Chaoseternus**

Hel'tec snorted, sending the arrogant brash Nen'tec a look that just screamed you're being stupid'. How the big lump had managed to get on the ruling council of the Free Jaffa nation she didn't know

Then again, she didn't know how she ended up on it either; she was a pilot not a leader and this political bullshit was getting on her nerves. She had little doubt it was showing, but frankly she didn't care.

She didn't think Teal'c and Bra'tac were enjoying it either but they at least were senior members and could every once in a while, tell some self-righteous prick who no doubt stayed with the system lords right to the end before proclaiming their loyalty to the Free Jaffa to shut the frak up.

"The Tau'ri have not yet started giving us the technologies we need to improve our ships and we need upgrades now! Our ships are no match for those of Maltenos, let alone Anubis and Maktenos has a far larger navy, if he decides to press us we are lost! We must take the technologies we need from the Tau'ri!"

Okay, Hel'tec grimaced, upgrade that brash and arrogant to utterly moronic

"You wish to make an enemy of our only ally?" Bra'tac asked, calmly, "and an enemy that has proven themselves as determined and inventive fighters?"

"If they will not give us the technologies we bargained with them for, yes"

"They will provide the technologies" Teal'c replied, "but their shipyards are full. They merely await a clear slip of sufficient size"

"You lie!" Nen'tec replied, "They had such a slip, at Edonia and they used it to start another warship instead of honouring their commitment to us"

"Edonia is new" she felt obliged to point out, "and not the best defended of positions either. Would you really trust an untried and untested shipyard to rebuild our ships? We have too few to risk them"

"It is irrelevant, they should have honoured that commitment and they did not"

"I know, but I felt their reasons sound" Bra'tac replied, "the next slips they expect to come free are at _Ravenbright, _three of them. We will have all three and they are designed to take _Ha'tacs" _

"How long do we have to wait then?" Nen'tec shouted, banging his hands on the rickety wooden table, "a month, a year?"

"Two months" Bra'tec replied.

"Two months, we could easily all be dead by then!"

"We could" she sighed, wishing she had had enough time to make a cigar run to Freedom, damn she hated being without a stash, that twin of hers had gotten her hooked, "but we wont be. Anubis is unlikely to want to attack us; he has his hands full with Maktenos and the Allies. Maktenos is too busy with Anubis and attacking us would threaten his alliance of convenience with the Tau'ri. The Loyalist cylons are practically non-existent, the Secessionists have no beef with us, neither do the Unforgiven and they are both too busy beating up on each other anyways. The other cylon groups are too small to be a threat and the Aschen couldn't get to us without us getting warning somehow and they don't seem to be interested"

She frowned at the brash old warrior, "whether you want to realise it or not, we are sitting pretty for the moment unlike the Tau'ri who just got hit by the Cylons. If I find who blocked the orders authorising reinforcements to be sent..."

She let the threat trail off, and the council all nodded agreement with the sentiment, except she noted, for Nen'tec, who paused quite perceptibly before agreeing.

Hel'tec shrugged it off, he might not do that much of it, but he was allowed to think before he replied.

"Next order of business then, Ba'al. As you know, he fled to the very borders of the galaxy with what little of his fleet that remained after the final defeat of the System Lords. His location has now been confirmed as has the disposition of his forces, ten _Ha'taks, _one _Cheops _ and near five thousand Jaffa over those that crew his ships" Bra'tac glanced at each member of the council, and nodded slightly.

"The question is, do we send a punitive expedition to kill him?"

"Yes, before he can start to replace his lost ships and warriors. The forces he has now are enough to make him a threat let alone if we give him time to build up more"

It surprised Hel'tec that Nen'tec was the first to reply and she glanced at him, a little wary. He had replied reasonably, that was acting out of character, especially considering how angry he had been scant seconds before.

"I agree, but it will take a sizeable force to deal with the ships we know he has. If he has hidden his numbers or made more since this intelligence was gathered then the force will need to be larger" Teal'c pointed out.

"Well," Nen'tec sneered, "ask your vaunted Tau'ri for assistance then, there ships are so superior' after all"

"They are spread thin, engaged in a defensive war, assistance is unlikely" Teal'c replied.

"Worth asking anyways" Hel'tec said, "and start gathering a few ships together in the meantime"

"Agreed" Bra'tac replied, followed by Teal'c and the other council members and reluctantly by Nen'tec, "now, who should command this expedition?"

* * *

My first fleet command. 

I had command of a fleet.

Kara I knew was jealous and shocked as hell right now; despite the distance I could feel her emotions in the back of my mind, albeit more then a little muted.

The Tau'ri had at least come through, sending the _Persephone _ to assist us in the final destruction of the last System Lord and we would need it. I had heard of Ba'al, he was a dangerous foe, wily like a Tau'ri fox and he didn't let his arrogance overwhelm his common sense as often as the dead Lords did.

Of course, we had him outnumbered in theory but still, it was a two month trek to the location of Ba'als last refuge and a lot can change in that time. Then, we would have to wait for the much faster _Persephone _to catch up; the Tau'ri couldn't afford to have her doing nothing for all of our two month transit time after all.

That would make one cruiser, two _Rel'tec _ motherships, twelve _Ha'taks. _ Not much of an edge in warship numbers, though we did have twice as many motherships and the qualitative advantage of the Tau'ri warship, still it all rested on whether the numbers we had for Ba'als fleet were accurate and if he had made more ships or not.

I hoped not, I planned for him having done so.

* * *

_Persephone _ joined us early by a full three days, but we were glad of it. The depredations of the Goa'uld were already beginning to show on the worlds we visited for supplies and food. It was pretty obvious somebody was busy in this area and we had little doubt as to whom. 

It wasn't long before we ran into our first Goa'uld warships, a pair of _Ha'taks _ that appeared to be sentries inside a dead system, no habitable worlds but we could scan plenty of resources as we dropped out of hyper making it a valuable resource for Ba'al should he wish to rebuild his forces.

The hostile _Ha'taks _ saw us and the size of our force and naturally ran, no doubt to warn Ba'al of the encroaching forces but _Persephone _ micro jumped ahead and intercepted them, assisted by her small group of _F-302 _ fighters, delaying them just long enough for the rest of the fleet to catch up.

Seeing the strength of the force they were facing, both _Ha'taks _ surrendered, though we did find evidence of a firefight on the bridge of one of the _Ha'taks _when we boarded, evidence that some of the bridge crew at least had not liked the idea of betraying their God'

Some of the crew announced their allegiance to us, the rest we distributed amongst the cells aboard the rest of the fleet where they would be kept prisoner. A quick shuffling of personnel later to bring our two new warships up to near strength for crew and we entered hyperspace again, heading for the next system.

* * *

The next system had a human population and Jaffa overseers loyal to Ba'al as well as a number of mines. There were remnants of the cities of the humans scattered all across the planet, all burnt out ruins and streets covered with the bleached, stripped bones of the former inhabitants. If I was to judge, I would say that they were in the early phases of an industrial revolution when Ba'al came. 

Knowing we could do nothing for the dead, I ordered the overseers killed and for aid and supplies, especially medicines to be shipped to the planet below. I hoped it would be enough, plague was ravaging the population, unsurprising considering the sheer volume of dead, but we could stay to do anymore. We would be back though.

* * *

The next system had been stripped, apparently in a great hurry and very recently. It seemed Ba'al knew we were here, good. He should worry, for the next system was where we expected him to be. We were coming for him, and we didn't intend to let him survive, let alone escape.

* * *

Naturally, Ba'al was waiting for us. 

Naturally, his forces were stronger then had been reported, massing just one _Cheops _ as had been reported, but also twenty _Ha'taks, _a full ten more then we had anticipated.

He had us outnumbered, twenty-one to seventeen, counting the two _Ha'taks _ we had added to the fleet, a four ship advantage to him but we had one more mothership and the _Persephone. _

That being said, this would be a hard battle but as I could see it, the only real option was a direct assault, if we tried to split up and flank, Ba'al would just destroy each group individually, couldn't tell _Persephone _ to operate independently because again, Ba'al would love the opportunity to catch the Tau'ri warship on her own and pick her off.

I ordered the fleet to form around my two motherships, making these two vessels the solid core of the formation and sent _Persephone _ to the back with orders to dart around giving covering fire to any faltering warships, then I gave the order and the fleet charged.

What would become decisive about that battle quickly became clear, it was Ba'als numerical superiority, our larger numbers of heavies, it was quality of training.

It hadn't been liked at first, but even whilst we had still been a resistance movement and not a nation in our own right, Bra'tac had been sending Jaffa warship crews to Alpha Prime for training in Tau'ri tactics, Tau'ri ideas and best of whom, Tau'ri ideas on co-ordinated fire.

Ba'als ships each picked one of mine and opened fire, beginning the process of wearing the shields down, but mine, one ship would pick a target and all the nearest vessels would fire on the same vessel. That said, it should come as no surprise that the first ship to die was one of Ba'als, as was the second, the third and the fourth.

The fifth was one of mine and in the wake of the explosion of its reactor core another five of my _Ha'taks _ retreated to the rear of the battleline, frantically trying to repair shattered shields. Six of Ba'als _Ha'taks _ attempted to breakthrough and assault the wounded vessels but _Persephone _ placed herself directly between the wounded ships and Ba'als forces, quickly joined by the _Rel'tec _whose name would translate as _Liberty and Valour. _

_Persephone _ and the _Liberty and Valour _ got three of the _Ha'taks _ between them before the rest retreated back behind Ba'als battleline. Unfortunately, whilst two of my _Ha'taks _ had rejoined the battle, the third had retreated into hyper, declaring a destroyed shield generator and three destroyed power nodes making her combat ineffective.

His _Cheops _ moved forward then, its heavy if old weapons batteries tearing through one of my _Ha'taks _ and forcing a second into retreat but it overexposed itself in the process and received concentrated fire from _Persephone, _both _Rel'tecs _ and four _Ha'taks. _

Crippled and burning the mothership broke off and played no further part in the battle and now I held all the advantages, superior training and heavier warships in the form of the _Rel'tecs _and _Persephone. _ Of course, that didn't make the rest of the battle academic, Ba'al still had 13 _Ha'taks _ and they could and did cause us more damage, we lost four more _Ha'taks _ to their eight before what appeared to be the last of Ba'als Navy surrendered.

We tried to move to assault what had to be Ba'als main world in this area of space but were forced to stop in shock well beyond the orbits of its three habitable moons.

Ba'al had built himself the solid core of a planetary defence network.

It wasn't completed, we could quite clearly see on the sensors the frantic activity that indicated construction in progress but the linchpins, the six primary satellites of the network were in place and active.

I had no doubt that Ba'al had survived and was on the surface of that world, but what could I do? My ships were damaged, several severely, and even at full strength I doubted I had ships enough to assault just one of those stations. From what my sensors could see, the nearest one alone had the firepower of five upgraded motherships and, no doubt in anticipation of an assault by the Tau'ri, appeared to have far more solid anti-fighter defences then was normal for the Goa'uld.

The bitter taste of defeat in my mouth, I ordered the retreat and we fled back through hyper to the second system we had visited, the one with the destroyed Industrial civilisation. There, I ordered repairs made and supplies taken aboard before beginning the long trek back to friendly space.

I had little doubt the reports sent ahead with _Persephone _ would cause quite a stir.

* * *

I was quite right, the fact that Ba'al had shown such innovation was quite a shock to the council and they swiftly decided that Ba'al was thinking too much for a Goa'uld, he was making himself far more of a threat. Of course, planetary defence networks weren't unknown, but they, as a general rule of thumb, were not something the Goa'uld build and certainly not at such strength. 

It made the mandate to destroy Ba'al that much more urgent, unfortunately it had taken us two months to make our way back to Free Jaffa Nation space and it would take us two months or so after we assembled the armada to make our way back to Ba'als space, that gave Ba'al at least four months to complete the network and build up some other surprises for us.

**To Be Continued...**


	6. 6: Surprise

**GateWar Interludes**

**Gatewar Interludes Six: Surprise  
by Chaoseternus**

Hiring the best private eye in the United Kingdom for two months, with expenses paid: £1453.81

Hiring a private eye willing to infiltrate a belligerent foreign nation: Life's savings down the drain, very down the drain.

Illegal use of official resources: Real risk of court martial if discovered.

Outright bribes: £3300

Sending a restricted asset, one supersonic attack helicopter that didn't even belong to Britain , into North Korea on a retrieval mission without authorisation: Don't ask. Ever.

The Expression on Admiral Thompson's face as his father, believed dead since the Korean war, shows up in his office: Priceless, and well worth it.


	7. 7: Raid

**GateWar Interludes**

**Gatewar Interludes Seven: Raid  
by Chaoseternus**

Twelve was annoyed and grumpy.

It wasn't time yet, and that had him grumpy. He had this secret build up going on, a few hidden shipyards constructed which he knew the others hadn't yet discovered and he couldn't throw that little fact in their faces. Why? Because it was a secret.

He wanted to throw the little fact that he had built two hundred ships that they had no idea about in their faces, but he wouldn't, it would be more then a little stupid.

Didn't stop him wanting to crow about it though.

Didn't stop that fact that the Secessionist's had far more ships then him, just shifted the scales from roughly 4 to 1, to 3 to 1. A bonus, but it still left his faction the second largest, the second best. It wasn't good enough for the destruction of the secessionist faction and the various pirate groups he really wished to carry out, but it put him slightly closer to the goal. Besides which, it was a pretty safe bet the others were trying to build ships in secret too, best not to trust the reported ship numbers too much. The Guardians he would ignore, they were fighting for their redemption in their own way, protecting an every increasing number of human settled worlds from the depredations of the other factions, they might be growing in strength, building their own ships and even training human crews but they weren't on the offensive and he had diplomatic relations with them, they were no threat.

The Loyalist Remnant, the Secessionists and the few pirate groups were though, they needed to be dealt with for a start. Then, the Goa'uld, the Aschen and any other that dared to threaten the human race. The day their was no threat to the humans would be the day they would have their redemption, and not a single second sooner.

Of course, that meant their faction would have to survive the determined efforts that would be made to destroy it, but he already had Alpha Sites' of his own set up, just in case. Sure, if his main force was wiped out, it would take the Alpha's quite some time to build up enough forces to continue the Unforgiven agenda, but given time they could and would.

A knock sounded at his door, followed swiftly by the shape of the Two or Boomer unit that was his personal assistant. She no doubt had another important report for him to look at, but he wished she could improve her judgement, important went in the Inbox, she only had to bring in anything that required immediate attention, and that she hadn't gotten the hang of, yet. He knew he could find out anything his cylons knew just by pulling it from the network himself but frankly it was too much noise, too much data. It was far too easy for that little essential piece of information to get lost under all the trivialities, hence why he had someone... well, someone's to shift through it all for him and pass the important bits to him through this Two.

"The Secessionist have dropped at least one device on the surface of Earth"

Okay, now THAT rated a most immediate'.

"Just one?"

"Intel is suggestive of a softening' campaign, followed by a massed strike of heavy units"

Twelve grinned; it looked like he had an excuse to show the Secessionists exactly how busy he had been.

"There is this quote I learned last time I was on earth, one that seems very appropriate to this situation, Shakespeare I believe, '_Cry Havoc', and let slip the dogs of war!" _

Two smiled, "Julius Caesar, act 3, scene 1"

Twelve raised a surprised eyebrow, "I'm impressed"

"Know thou enemy is certainly true, but if we are to have our salvation, we need to know what we are fighting for in the first place"

He nodded,"agreed. Do we know when and where the forces for the massed strike will assemble?"

"Not yet, but I have already informed our intelligence assets to make that information a priority"

"Good," Twelve thought swiftly, his mind racing through the locations of every unit under his command, their status and what little he knew of Secessionist activity. He didn't know enough about that last, but then, he never did, that was the price of Intelligence, "have the fifth, tenth and eleventh fleets move to the front. Eleventh fleet is to reinforce defensive pickets as necessary and destroy any smaller groups of Secessionist vessels they come across. The fifth and tenth I will command myself, arrange transport"

"The tenth and eleventh are unblooded formations Two pointed out reasonably."

"And the others should not yet know they exist, I am well aware of these facts," Twelve shook his head, "but if we are to distract the secessionists from their assault on Earth, even divert their forces then we need ships enough to be a threat. We ever use those unblooded units or waste time gathering enough ships from across our space to be a threat, weakening most of our picket forces. No, we need those units now; we will just have to accept the somewhat higher casualties"

Two nodded, her mind already composing the appropriate orders, "do I have the twelfth and thirteenth covertly move forward, just in case?"

Twelve grimaced, considering it. Combined, the tenth, eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth comprised the bulk of his hidden forces, those 200 capitals he had build in secret, in theory without anyone knowing about them. He needed to expose two of them for the mission he was about to carry out, but did he need to potentially expose the last two by bringing them forward as well?

There was a real risk of exposure too, but if the secessionists did decide to ruin his day, he would need those units, and the Secessionists were not spread anywhere near as far as his public assets were. He could see how he would need those ships, but he didn't want to risk their exposure and discovery.

Cost/Benefit analysis, that was more the domain of the Nines, the Doyle units then any other but they were almost exclusively Secessionist.

Frak it

"Move them forward, but make damn sure they know to be covert" he couldn't risk a reprisal strike blowing through his line again; the last one had caused damage enough. He would have to risk their exposure.

* * *

That was target enough to grab their attention' twelve decided, his arms resting on the tactical display as he gazed down upon the system displayed within. No shipyards, but a mid-range supply depot, a major asteroid mining facility, surface mining on six worlds, one surface and two orbital refineries, masses of transports, even a repair depot for support ships and a twenty baseship picket. Yes this system would do fine' 

"Good choice Two," Twelve glanced up at his second, "I approve"

Two nodded, pleased, "a heavy patrol of eighteen basestars moves through in approximately eight hours; when that happens _raiders _ will scatter across the gulf randomly checking for fleets hiding outside the system itself. I suggest we should be gone before then"

Twelve growled, "Normally I would say what and intercept them, but today, I _want _ to be sure word gets out"

He shook his head, "100 basestars against twenty, this should be brief and good thing too, we will need the time to strip the system and destroy whatever we cant take"

"Should I order the assault sir?"

Twelve glanced back up from the plot, gazing directly into Twos eyes, "plot a jump for the general location of the primary picket force and take us in"

* * *

The fleet jumped, arriving swiftly within the target system. Within seconds, the first snag became visible, a convoy was forming of older basestars reconfigured as supercargo vessels to take the refined ores out of the system, naturally such a convoy had an escort, an additional ten modern basestars was in system and their first move was to place themselves between the Unforgiven fleet and the convoy. 

It was a minor snag all told, the Secessionists were still heavily outnumbered but it increased the likely numbers of losses his fleet would suffer, and he wanted to avoid losses, he wanted to pay a few more visits after this one before he retreated back behind his own lines.

Besides which, it wasn't a good idea to let twenty older basestars, fully loaded with supplies to escape. That meant supplies his enemy could use instead of him.

Swiftly, he ordered the Tenth fleet to destroy the convoys escort then capture the convoy itself; if capture was impossible then the convoy was to be destroyed. Following that, he ordered the Fifth fleet and his flagship to move on the primary grouping of picket ships, a group of ten basestars sitting above the fifth planet, unfortunately well within support range of an orbital refinery and its guns but that couldn't be helped.

The fight that followed was brief but bloody, the secessionist basestars had little illusions about their chances of survival but their orders also preventing them from abandoning the system. It meant they had nothing to lose and that made them deadly.

Fifteen of his basestars were destroyed before both the ten picket basestars and the orbital guns defending the refinery were destroyed, and twelve more as the remaining ten ships of the picket force assaulted the fifth fleet from the rear, leaving his formally fifty strong formations with only twenty-three ships, five of which had been rendered combat ineffective.

The Tenth fleet had better luck however, destroying the ten basestars of the convoy escort for the loss of just three of their own, exceptional for an untested force, then successfully capturing thirteen of the converted basestars. Of the remaining seven, three had been destroyed attempting to escape, two had shown they had a fully functional and modern set of weapons and accordingly had been destroyed and the final two had attempted to ram the warships of the Tenth fleet, destroying another of his vessels and rendering two more combat ineffective.

Twelve quickly gathered those heavily damaged vessels that were still hyper capable into a convoy and sent them home with orders to spread the word that the Secessionists had apparently started to insert Q-ships into their convoys, joined by two fully operational basestars as escort and the captured cargo conversions. Two vessels he was forced to strip, then scuttle, that left him with sixty of his initial one-hundred capital ships operational.

With sixty warships and no picket to deal with, Twelve's warships quickly rampaged throughout the system, stripping every single one of the facilities the Secessionists had built, including a small shipyard that he hadn't known about, one which seemed to be experimenting with minor warship designs, similar to Tau'ri MTBs. The uncompleted prototypes twelve was rather gleeful at having seized, everything that couldn't be stripped from the shipyard was then destroyed just as at every other facility within the system.

Knowing then that he was coming close to the eight hour limit, Twelve then ordered his ships to the next, rather lesser target. The next system was picketed only because it was close to the frontlines; it contained little in the way of useable resources and his ships swiftly dealt with three of the systems four ship picket. The fourth vessel fled into hyperspace as soon as it picked up the IFF beacons of his fleet.

The final target was a distribution centre, a heavily used facility to which most of the supplies for the Secessionist ships along the border were brought ready to be parcelled out. It was unfortunately a location that you couldn't even hope to know how many ships would be at, except to say that it had a permanent picket of fifteen vessels. The facility itself used to be colonial and was known to be jump capable if provided with sufficient external power and Twelve was hoping that all the resources it contained could be diverted to his needs, though its destruction would serve his needs just as well.

It quickly became clear that far more ships then the fifteen ship picket were in the system, but given the nature of the target, that had been expected. They were only five extra basestars in system, mixed in amongst seized colonial cargo and support ships, custom built Cylon cargo ships and the odd old basestar conversion, but upon their approach, the distribution facility itself spewed forth enough fighters to equip six basestars. According to the intelligence he had, the base itself had two squadrons permanently assigned, the others he guessed were new craft, awaiting assignment.

Ploughing through the scattering support ships, Twelve first attacked the picket warships, destroying six of the fifteen vessels for no loss before the horde of fighters fell upon his fleet. It became at battle of attrition as the already depleted fighter squadrons from his own basestars engaged both the fighters from the picket warships and the fighters from the distribution facility but Twelve knew that even depleted as they were he still had more fighters then the enemy. Therefore he ordered his basestars not to support the fighters, but to converge upon and destroy the remaining basestars of the picket, destroying the final nine vessels for no fatalities amongst his own. Several vessels were rendered combat ineffective however and retreated to the edge of the system under escort.

Now free to manoeuvre, he ordered the fleet to support range of the fighters and swiftly, the combined effort of his basestars and fighters finished the hostile _raiders _ off, but not before a further two basestars were forced to retreat to the edge of the system and a third was destroyed by kamikaze attacks.

That left just the redistribution facility itself and the five basestars not of the picket, these vessels were busy gathering the scattered support ships into a convoy, obviously planning to escort them and their precious cargos out of the danger area. Not willing to let that happen, twelve bypassed the base for the moment and assaulted the five, quickly overwhelming them but not before those cargo vessels that could escaped into hyper.

The rest were older cylon or captured colonial types and twelve captured as many as he could, overriding their computers or those of their chrome toaster' crews, not a particularly difficult task, and the rest he destroyed out of hand if he could. A few did manage to jump before he got to them.

Twelve now found himself with thirty-five ships for the assault on the base itself, the rest were either crippled or were guarding the cripples and captured cargo ships. He decide he had enough ships and continued the assault, his ships closing on the base, weapons spitting across space as they attempted to collapse its Goa'uld derived shield, an upgrade the Secessionists had installed.

The shield fell, but not before the bases weapons had bracketed and destroyed six more of his warships, as soon as the shields went down however, his fighters were able to sweep in and destroy the generators that provided the power for the weapons and shields, which in effect had just been bolted on, not refitted into the design.

Hoping for a successful capture, Twelve ordered two of his basestars to force dock and offload their warriors and deal with any computer based resistance. Unfortunately, as soon as the two vessels, a titanic explosion ripped through the base, destroying both basestars and setting debris spinning through space which collapsed the shields of eight more and wiped out the drives of a ninth. That ninth he had no choice but to scuttle despite the fact that otherwise, it was in good condition, he just could risk the time needed to repair it.

The mission completed, the remnants of his task force retreated back behind Unforgiven lines having successfully destroyed fifty-three enemy basestars, captured a significant amount of usable resources and emptied three systems of all hostile activity for the loss of only forty-three capital ships.

All in all, a successful raid and one Twelve had little doubt would get the attention of the Secessionists.

* * *

Two days later, Twelve received word that the Secessionist fleet gathering on the edge of Tau'ri space had been diverted and was now heading for his border. 


	8. 8: Hotdrop

**GateWar Interludes**

**Gatewar Interludes Eight: Hotdrop   
by Chaoseternus**

****

_Directly relates to events during 11: Disclosure_

_

* * *

_

_"Gunner _reports Tally-ho sir!" 

Sanguinius nodded, his armour whirring around him, unnaturally loud in the harsh confines of the hastily converted cargo pod that was their transport for this operation.

"How many contacts?" his voice was gruff, rasping, but still, it reeked of command, of the expectation that he would be obeyed.

"Six _Ha'taks _sir, I'm not sure how long the flyboys can hold them off"

"Then we had best complete our mission… and fast"

"Aye Commander, I'll tell the men to make one last check of their systems"

Sanguinius nodded, knowing such an order was useless, his men would already been checking their armour, their weapons, they were good like that. But then, he had picked them.

"You do that,"

"Sir," saluting, Scout Tycho turned, making his way past the armoured form that filled the bulk of this particular pod and heading for the airlock to the troop pod.

Sanguinius meanwhile was left with his thoughts, which were of battle…

And of Blood.

* * *

"Shit, six tangos? You know, when I volunteered, I didn't think we would have to deal with this much shit and still be expected to go" 

Jig Nelson snorted, his hands flying across his command console without pause as he responded to his Nav officers comments, "what, did you really think Sanguinius would allow us to turn back once we had made it this far?"

"Perhaps not," Petty Officer Brunt replied sarcastically, "bastard would fire upon us if he thought we would flee"

"That's why I made damn sure none of his boys got near our crates…"

"Fuck…" Brunt shook his head, "I was half joking, but you really…?"

"Yes,"

"Fuck"

"Enlightening as this conversation is," Chief Petty Officer Fleetman inserted, her Southern drawl filling the tight confines of the bridge of the small warship, "we're about to come under fire, might I suggest you hold it for another time?"

"Aye Captain," Nelson snorted sarkily, enjoying the eye roll his second sent him, "now, what say we open fire?"

"Too late…" Fleetman shot back, "or were you too busy nattering to notice we have been firing for the last ten?"

"Smartarse," he muttered, under his breathe.

The Tac officer still heard it though, laughing she replied, "and don't you forget it"

"Where's the _Sir Lancelot _?" Nelson asked; all business now that the enemy was in range to fire back.

"Last transmission indicated they had successfully breeched the atmosphere on the southern hemisphere and were making their way up to the northern… according to their revised ETA those _Ha'taks _will be able to pick her up in six-five seconds"

"Then we had better keep those bastards distracted," Nelson grinned, sharkily.

"I think we've succeeded," Fleetman frowned, "we got all six tangos moving to engage… they aren't leaving anyone to guard the planet itself"

"You think perhaps they want us dead?" Brunt commented, grunting as he forced the MGB into a tight spiral, his display showing a stream of weapons fire flashing through the space the small ship had just occupied.

"they can do it too if the CO doesn't get a bit more aggressive," Fleetman noted, "we're trying to keep six _Ha'taks _distracted with just six MTBs and four _F-302's _and the bastard has us defensive, we should be concentrating fire"

"I'm sure _Guardian _knows what he's doing," Nelson frowned as his command rocked under the force of a very near miss, "I hope"

* * *

"Come into my parlour said the spider to the fly," Grissom grinned, manically, evilly, as he watched the icons of the Goa'uld warships of Anubis on his display, each of them behaving exactly as he had predicted… exactly as he wanted. 

"Sir, I have a solid data-link to the fighters, they report missiles and drives hot,"

"You know at some point Anubis is going to start equipping his ships with jump-interdiction systems," Grissom commented, somewhat reflectively, "but until then we'll just continue to make a killing… _JUMP!" _

"Jump aye… Gnat one has jumped… Gnat two… Gnat Three… Gnat four... _shit! _We lost them"

"What?" Startled, angry, Grissom shot upwards in his seat, "report!"

"Not sure… may have been a CIWS battery, we'll have to leave it to technical to reconstruct and confirm however. Three successful jumps… Tangos Five and two are damaged… tango six…"

The MTB rocked, sharply, abruptly, the inertial compensators whining in loud complaint.

"Tango Six lost containment…"

"No shit," Grissom commented dryly, his displays confirming exactly where that little shockwave had come from, "okay, that's plan A killed… I want concentrated fire procedures, SOP, who's weakest?"

"Tango Five… looks like it got hit by a Gnat and got caught in the shockwave too"

Grissom grunted as the icon of five began blinking on his display, "shielded behind those other bruisers though… signal and microjump and transmit appropriate co-ordinates. Signal all MTBs to ready tubes, _Gunner _and _Artillery _to be ready with suppressive fire"

"Aye Captain,"

* * *

"Suppressive fire," Nelson commented, amused, "I think perhaps we can manage that" 

"Receiving microjump co-ordinates…" Brunt frowned, "got 'em. I hope those bastards don't change course, because if they do, we may be in for some trouble"

Snorting, Nelson nodded, "always the way, okay, bring hyperdrives to full readiness and rig for microjump"

"Contact!" Fleetman announced, " _Sir Lancelot _now registering on scope"

"Have they initiated drop yet?"

"Negative,"

"Then we continue to fight," Nelson nodded, "Brunt, we jump on your mark"

"Five minutes to target,"

The crackly voice sounding over his helmet comm roused Sanguinius from his thoughts, sending him swiftly moving though the small clear corridors to the troop pod, his eye roving, making one last inspection of their equipment as he readied himself for what would be the first Hot-drop his small cadre of Marines would complete, but hopefully not the last.

All their previous missions had been though the gate, or involved them being dropped miles away from the target, this time they would be dropped into their target, right into the enemies laps.

Sanguinius grinned, malevolently, 'it should be glorious' he thought to himself as he strapped himself into his seat.

* * *

" _Fire!" _Grissom rose swiftly from his seat, slammed into an abrupt stop by the strong fabric of his restraints. 

His shout was wholly unnecessary, he had given his orders, his people knew what to do, and they had done it.

Tango fire was already under heavy fire, gauss rifle rounds splattering off its rapidly eroding shields but Grissom was quick to notice that not one of the four torpedoes the MTBs had fired had made it too their targets, all three had been intercepted.

This was new, and very definitely unwanted.

Anubis had learnt, adapted to their attacks and if he was starting to do that, then he had just become a far more dangerous opponent indeed.

Not that it was enough to save Tango Five, that _Ha'tak _was already history. Noting the damage indicators which placed the ship very definitely out of the fight, he ordered fire shifted to the next easy kill, Tango Two.

* * *

"Shit," Brunt gasped, flinched as sparks flashed into being just inches from his face. Gingerly, he abandoned his post, carefully dodging past the wildly swinging live cable that had dropped mere inches from his face, hoping to reach the cutoff for the relevant panel before the loose cable really caused someone a mischief. 

He just hoped it wasn't something too important either, these boats didn't have that much in the way of back-ups and secondary systems. Indeed, several systems had no back-up at all.

"Report!" Nelson barked, his voice sounding loud, clear and confident over the arching electricity and the scattered alarms.

"Helm control is down," Brunt gasped, shaking his hand, as it involuntarily clenched around the fuse he had just pulled, "least till I tie away these swinging cables"

"Weapons… we lost a pulse turret, shields are down but regenerating," Fleetman nodded sharply, glancing up from her console, "we should have shields back in three minutes"

"Three minutes in a combat situation when we're massively outgunned?" Nelson shook his head, "that's far too long, tell engineering to override controls and microjump us out of the battle area"

"Aye Captain"

* * *

Sanguinius smiled evilly, he could hear the engines groaning now, strained beyond their usual capabilities, being asked to land the heavy mass of the freighter and its load on a planetary surface. 

The first two _Merchants, _the _Liberty _and the _Merchant _herself could not do that with cargo loaded, but the pace of technology was fast and the _Sir Lancelot _had improved drives and inertial controls. She could land on a planets surface, just not with a full load-out, that was the only reason this desperate mission could take place.

Sanguinius hoped the freighter and its crew would be ale to get away safely, but he rather doubted it. Still, they had known the risks when they volunteered for this job.

"LZ is hot, I confirm LZ is hot, all units prepare to deploy"

Lets see, two seconds to clear his restraints, twenty to run a diagnostic on his suit and check his attached equipment, just to make sure nothing had gotten shaken lose during the landing, then say thirty seconds to make his way to and through the airlocks. One minute after landing he should be able to engage the enemy, and show them the error of their ways.

Perfect.

* * *

"Dammit," Grisson cursed, his eyes hard s he watched the icon representing _Gunner _reappear at the very edge of the solar system, joined swiftly by _Defender, " _that's two down" 

"Signal from the _Sir Lancelot, _deploying gatecrasher teams now"

"That's a start," Grissom grimaced, "but we still got three _Ha'taks _to deal with, we're down to four birds and our torpedoes are useless"

"Captain, Tango one is breaking off for the planet"

"Oh, _hell _no" Grissom snarled, "we need to intercept that bastard, and quick"

* * *

"Kill them! Kill them all!" Sanguinius shouted, his voice distorted and loud over his suits loudspeaker, his shouted words making the Jaffa warriors glance at each other warily, then redouble their fire. 

They had orders just to hold the gate open, prevent the Tau'ri escaping their devastated world through the stargate, they hadn't been told to expect an attack from the Tau'ri, their God had assured them it would be impossible.

Yet, here they were, and not just any Tau'ri but the Tau'ri elite, the Gatecrasher teams who appeared rarely, but when they did, they massacred anyone who got in their way.

More then a few of the Jaffa were tempted to flee into the surrounding forests, ecape the wrath of these gatecrashers, but no, there God had given them orders. Besides, they outnumbered the Tau'ri at least twenty to one, the gatecrashers were good, they knew that much, but surely they were not that good?

A clattering, whining whir got their attention, but they ignored it, they didn't know what it was, they believed they had no reason to fear it.

It was understandable; no Jaffa had ever returned to their gods after facing Gattling guns, indeed, few had survived at all.

Like all Jaffa before them, they were stunned in momentary paralysis as in an instant; a roaring engulfed the clearing, forty of their number being tossed in an eyeblink to the ground, shattered, torn, no longer recognisable.

It didn't take a genius though to figure out where their death had come from, and to recognise a real threat and to concentrate there fire upon the lone gatecrasher who had fired with such devastating effect.

To their shock and dismay, it wasn't a gatecrasher.

A roaring filled the clearing once more, twenty more Jaffa falling as the suddenly fearful Jaffa concentrated their fire on the shape of the lone tank that had entered into the engagement, a modified _Warrior _tank, its normal armaments replaced with the spinning, spitting form of the gattling gun that was wrecking such havoc amongst the Jaffa.

Bolts of energy began flashing around the warrior, churning up the ground around the small tank, then chewing into its armour, tearing away aerials, tracks, slowly shredding the defiantly firing form to shreds. It took them just three minutes to put the tank down, but that was three minutes too many.

That was three minutes in which the Gatecrasher teams could fire freely, not having to worry about return fire from the bulk of the Jaffa, three minutes in which the distracted Jaffa were caught in a deadly crossfire.

Still, the Jaffa held, though dismayed they did not break, the survivors turning their staffs swiftly onto the Tau'ri heavy formation, tearing a terminator down with a lucky shot directly to the armours headpiece, then a trio of power armoured figures.

It was a battle that looked destined to be an expensive victory for the Jaffa, two hundred of their number having fallen so far to merely one tank and twenty five soldiers, but then, another player made itself known.

The _Sir Lancelot. _

Like all _Merchant _class ships, she was equipped with a number of pulse laser batteries for defence against fighters and other small warcraft. As the freighter began its lift off, frantically beginning its race to safety, its enterprising Captain ordered those batteries that could be brought to bear turned upon the Jaffa.

The weapons, designed to track far faster moving targets had no difficulties locking onto the smaller, but far slower Jaffa warriors and began sequenced firing, their searing energies turning everything they contacted into so much burning flesh.

Unnerved by this latest attack, the Jaffa of Anubis attempted to turn their weapons on the _Sir Lancelot, _but whilst the freighter did not have military grade shields, the ones she had were more then up to the task of turning aside even the massed fire of the Jaffa warriors.

Shattered and demoralised, the Jaffa began to break.

Swiftly capitalising on the now disorganised formation, the remnants of the two Power armoured Gatecrasher teams and the single Terminator squad made their way towards the stargate and swiftly disconnected the gate.

* * *

"Wormhole has disengaged!" 

Startled, Siler/Selmac dived towards the gate controls, and then swiftly thumbed the heavy solid steel shield up, revealing the soot covered form of the now inactive stargate.

"They're early," Siler whispered, "dial out to the Alpha Site, now!"

"Aye Sir," Hammond replied, her voice saying all to clearly that like every other attempt, she didn't expect this one to be successful, "chevron one encoded… chevron two encoded…. Chevron three encoded…. Chevron four encoded…"

Hope began to enter her voice now; they had so far managed to dial in before chevron four every single time, blocking their out going connection, perhaps they would make it this time? She didn't dare breathe that thought out loud.

"Chevron five encoded… chevron six encoded... chevron seven…."

She paused, shocked beyond belief, "locked"

Both glanced up as with a kawhoosh of released energies, the stargate opened once more.

"Signal the Alpha site, send our IDC," Siler quietly said, his tone almost grateful, "and request assistance. We still have much of the mountain to retake"

* * *

"Signal from Sanguinius sir," Grissom glanced across, eager to hear what had gone wrong this time… _not, _"its phoenix sir" 

Phoenix, they had the Stargate.

Thank you Sanguinius.

Still, that left them with just five minor warships to keep the three surviving _Ha'taks _away from this world.

"Sir, I've signalled the survivors of the 7 th Starfighter Wing, if they dump their buddy stores and Sanguinius dials out to the Land of the Light, we could get some warshots shipped in for them"

"Good Initiative," Grissom smiled, "let's just hope we can hold the Goa'uld off long enough for them to reload"

" _Keerist! _We just lost _Keeper; _they bracketed her, she's gone. No signs of survivors"

Grissom signed, weariness lining his eyes, "maintain concentrated fire on Tango One"

* * *

"Boss," Fleetman sighed, glancing up from her console, "I'm locking out Pulse three, she's unstable" 

"Damnit," Nelson cursed, "right now we need everything running and more besides"

"It was only a hasty repair," Fleetman shrugged, "I'm surprised it held this long"

"We're losing," Nelson grimly admitted, "down to four combat capable birds, getting low on ammo… we're losing"

Silence filled the bridge, disturbed only by the beeping of the consoles and the occasionally piercing wail of an inbound fire alarm.

Nelson frowned suddenly, and then smiled. It was a smile that could be best described as evil, malicious with just a touch of devilry.

"Rig ship for pilot recovery operations, and tell the fighter boys never mind reloads, I need volunteers…"

* * *

"He's insane, he fucking insane," Grissom commented, then smiled, "when I grow up, I wanna be just like him…" 

There was muffled snorts and laughter from the crew as Grissom shook his head, "okay, pass the plan on, and redouble our fire, we need to keep these bastards distracted"

* * *

It is the greatest fear of anyone who works in space to become a Dutchman, to be floating away from your ship or base and risk being lost forever. The concept of deliberately pushing yourself away from the safety of your craft was anathema to many, in space; there were far quicker and easier ways to die. 

Which is perhaps why the Jaffa didn't react when three _F-302 _pilots rigged there jump drives, then, just as the craft was about to enter hyper, ejected from their warbirds.

Jumping into the gap between a ship and it shields is a trick the Tau'ri had, over the years, earned themselves a name for, it was dangerous and deadly both to the target and to the insane bastard who was actually willing to try it. If the enemy ship made just one unanticipated movement, you could reform within their hull. The effects of course would be devastating to the enemy ship, you would complete your mission of destruction but it was a cert that you would not live to tell the tale, hence why only the best pilots were allowed to attempt such a manoeuvre…

But, just suppose you want to deliberately jump into the ship, destroying both your fighter and the enemy warship. And just suppose you had the means to leave your craft right before that final, fatal leap?

Why, then all that would be left would be the long lonely wait for somebody to come and pick you up.

And a very interesting report afterwards, of course.


	9. 9: Q'ute

**GateWar Interludes**

**Gatewar Interludes 9: Q'ute**  
**by Chaoseternus**

Occurs immediately prior to 12: Battlegroup

* * *

"Remind me again why exactly I agreed to this?"

Lieutenant Johnson snorted, "well, I think you mentioned something about getting fed up of being picked on and wanting a little pay-back" he told his Captain calmly, not bothering to hide the smile on his face or his dancing, laughing eyes.

"Right," Hitchin's shook his head, "I must have been mad"

"A nice, useful kind of mad though boss" Johnson replied, "though, I would suggest keeping away from the base headshrink for a while"

The Captain snorted, his eyes resting on the form of his Command, the _Liberty _through the hefty, reinforced windows of _Ravenbrights _observation lounge, "she'll think I'm mad? What about the rest of you? You're the ones who, when given an opportunity to back out didn't. You're a bunch of mad men; this is an increased risk mission, not the normal fare for the Merchant Marine"

"You may have a point," Johnson conceded, "on the other hand, I have one too. It's called malice and vengeance. That last intercept cost us Mary, she was sweet, she was pure and the bastards took her away"

"She was a bloody dog,"

"Your point being boss?" Johnson smirked, "who was it again who was told off by the base vet for having too many treats shipped in?"

"Aw, can it L.T"

Johnson chuckled, his head nodding slightly as the last of the battered looking cargo pods finally and visibly clicked into place along the long main spar of the _Merchant _class Fleet Auxiliaries hull.

"Payback," he whispered once, making Hitchin's nod once, sharply.

"Payback," the tall, Teutonic looking blond whispered, his voice calm, deadly.

* * *

"Little slow today, don't 'cha think boss?" 

Hitchin's shook his head as the loud, brash cockney voice of the ships engineer sounded into the quiet of the bridge, "normally I would hate you for tempting Murphy like that but today… its too bloody quiet. They've normally hit us by now, so where are the bastards?"

"Perhaps they heard about the new shark swimming in these waters?"

"Gods," Hitchin's frowned, "I hope not. I want to give them a bloody hiding, not have them wary and waiting"

"I do so hate to interrupt such an entertaining conversation," came the interruption from the helm, "but I do believe we finally have company"

Hitchin's stepped quickly across, glancing just once at the sensor display embedded into the helm console before nodding, and turning around, walking to his position at the tactical console. Unlike a full warship, there wasn't a separate command seat for the Captain, here the Captain was expected to work hard too, not just give orders and fill-out paperwork.

He glanced across the displays just once, checking for obvious error messages or problems on the hastily augmented controls, his hand reaching down instinctively, his eyes not straying from his check of the tactical systems even as his hands lifted the clear plastic cover of the alert siren and pressed once hard on the thick red plastic button.

The ships lights flashed, red blinkers lighting up all over the ship and a piercing hoot filled the air, just twice.

Behind him, he heard the loud cursing of the engineering chief as he realized he was going to have to ride the long conveyor the length of the cargo pods to get to his post.

"Should have stayed in the engineering section," Hitchin's shouted as he heard the loud stamping of Mister Bevis racing towards the rear of the section.

"I have an I.D on our raider friends," Weiss-Houseman commented from the helm, "one _Ha'tak, _an unknown and a cylon basestar"

Hitchin's frowned, "unusual combination, want to bet its Anubis who has been staging these raids?"

"A gentleman does not indulge in such a vulgar pastime as betting unless there is a horse involved," Weiss replied, "luckily, we do appear to be about to send one to the knackers yard, unfortunately I do believe you have presented me with a suckers bet. The computer just presented its own I.Ds, one _Ha'tak, _Anubis version, one upgraded Cylon Basestar and a Drakh Cruiser"

"That's a lot of firepower," Johnson said as he swung, still dressing, onto the bridge, "is the mission still viable?"

Hitchin's frowned, glancing across his own tactical displays and sensor repeaters, then nodded, "we are go"

"Good," Johnson nodded, dropping swiftly in the bridges third and final major control console, the ships systems and damage control consol, "Weiss, I know I may be stating the obvious… but remember, the computer is in control, we are all asleep"

"Indeed Sir," Weiss chuckled, "I shall endeavour to appear appropriately mechanical and preset in my initial evasive manoeuvres"

"They're closing," Hitchin's noted, "closing on threshold, computer would generate an auto-alert in one-minute thirty"

"Mechanical manoeuvring at one minute thirty then sir, then panicked idiot at two minutes fourty-five seconds" Weiss noted.

"Agreed," Hitchin's grinned, devilishly.

* * *

"My Lord, we have confirmed the identity of the Tau'ri cargo ship," the Jaffa said quietly, careful not to anger his often vengeful master, "it is the _Liberty _" 

"Didn't your father report that destroyed on the last patrol he commanded in this area?" the goa'uld replied silkily, dangerously.

The Jaffa gulped, "I believe so, he must have been in error my lord"

"Pity for him," was the reply, "do be sure not to repeat your fathers mistakes or I may have to consider your entire line traitorous"

The Jaffa froze slightly, his eyes filling just for a moment, with an image of his two daughters, "I understand sir"

He did too, if he succeeded his father was lost, if he failed, he and his entire family would be wiped out. So be it.

"My Lord, they have not yet reacted to our presence, its probable they are asleep"

The Goa'uld shot him a contemptuous glance, "the Tau'ri always have at least one officer on the bridge"

"On warships yes sir, this is a cargo ship, using crews rejected by their military" the Jaffa continued, "if I am right, then there initial manoeuvres will be mechanical, pre-programmed into their computers. I have that pattern memorised My Lord"

"Then go to the bridge," the Goa'uld said slowly, as if speaking to a simpleton, "and be ready to demonstrate your knowledge"

"Yes My Lord"

* * *

"I do believe this fellow has the standard-computer evasive pattern memorised," Weiss commented, "I suppose I must use that against him" 

Hitchin's snorted, enjoying the humour behind the dry words of the helm officer, "we'll have to remember to warn control so that they can be updated"

"Indeed," Weiss noted, "taking panicked control now sir, all things being equal I hope to bring the Cylon ship into range first, before they decide we might be a threat and launch their fighters"

"Noted," Hitchin's replied, his hands racing across the controls as he informed the computers of the most-probable first target.

"Ten seconds to contact sir," Weiss noted, his hands and eyes not once leaving his controls.

"Unmasking batteries," Hitchin's voice informed the helm officer, whilst normally he was senior officer, under combat conditions he had long ago decided that Command should become the Helm Officers.

* * *

If the Goa'uld patrol had put any fighters in the air, they might have noticed the sides of the cargo pods vanishing, rolling like a garage door out of the way, and out of sight. 

They might have been even more interested in the shapes the swiftly vanishing doors revealed.

* * *

"I have a shooting solution," Hitchin's noted, his voice screaming satisfaction, "ready to fire at helm command" 

"Very Well Sir," Weiss noted, his expression not changing one iota from that of calm deadly assurance as the freighter began shaking under heavy fire from the Goa'uld vessels, "ready starboard batteries… three… two… one…"

* * *

Its shields glowing, almost opaque under the force of the barrage hitting it, the _Liberty _rolled, simultaneously making a sharp 90 degree turn directly up as it turned, presenting the long, large target of its starboard side to the Cylon Basestar. 

Hoping to capitalise on the apparent mistake, the basestar salvoe'd off thirty missiles, all sent racing towards the glowing form of the _Liberty. _

The _Liberty _responded in kind, fourty missiles flashing into space from the vessels cargo pods, the modified sidewinder missiles quickly racing towards the astonished, agog and slow to respond basestar before slewing around to present the _Ha'tak _with its port, a further thirty missiles racing out of the port side of the cargo pods even as the _Liberty _was forced by renewed incoming fire to take evasive action.

The ships CIWS batteries, an array of the type 17 pulse lasers sprang into life, spitting coherent death towards the oncoming cylon missiles even as the Cargo Vessels lone, older model Gauss Rifle engaged the Drakh Cruiser, cratering the unshielded but heavily armoured hull.

The Cylon basestar started to launch fighters, desperate to reinforce its defences, but only seven launched before the Goa'uld designed shield refitted into the ship failed under the barrage, allowing the bulk of the incoming missiles to directly impact upon the hull, three even managing to find the large opening to the mammoth vessels fighter repair bay, detonating inside the ships hull.

The basestar died, vanishing in an expanding globe of superheated metals and gases which expanded to engulf and shred the seven frantically racing fighters, then was gone, no shard larger then a printer remaining.

The _Ha'tak _attempted to race away from the missiles, hoping to keep its distance long enough for the missiles to run out of fuel even as it turned its main weapons and a new array of anti-fighter batteries against the oncoming swarm.

The weapons killed ten of the missiles, but the ship hadn't reacted fast enough to escape and sixteen missiles impacted, and then killed the shields leaving four to hit the hull itself. One failed to detonate; the remaining three blew large chunks out of the hull, exposing in an instant 70 of the vessel to vacuum.

Listing, bleeding air and shuddering, the _Ha'tak _dropped out of the fight, its shields dead, its weapons inactive.

The Drakh cruiser returned fire, its main weapon reaching out for a merchant ship that knew better then to let the mighty Quantum Discharge Canon hit its shields.

The vessels wound around each other, almost dog fighting, each desperate not just to get a clear shot, but to ensure the enemy didn't. Neither blinked, but it quickly became clear that the Cruiser was reacting faster, turning just a little harder and that, all things being equal; the _Liberty _would not be long for this world.

All things weren't equal however, and whilst the _Liberty's _primary advantage, surprise, was gone, Hitchin's was more then willing to keep dictating the battle.

The _Liberty _broke off the winding match, racing away from the Drakh cruiser. The vessel, somewhat warily, chased after the Fleet Auxiliary even as it dived behind the shattered wreck of the _Ha'tak. _The Cruisers Captain didn't hesitate to give the order to follow, assuming that the cargo ship would not have enough time to make any kind of major manoeuvre behind the hull before pooping out back into the sight of his sensors of the other side.

He was wrong.

The _Liberty _, as with the entire _Merchant _class was designed with the idea of moving bulk cargos in mind. Its engines were designed for sheer grunt, the ability to move occasionally massively heavy loads with the minimal of fuss, its thrusters and manoeuvring systems were likewise over designed and shorn of just over half its load-out of Naquadah tipped missiles, the _Liberty _was running extremely light.

The ship came to a crash-stop behind the _Ha'tak, _the inertial dampeners screaming in sheer electronic agony as the vessel came to a crushing stop. The DC board on the vessels bridge lit the bridge a lurid red as systems failed under the strain even as the vessels manoeuvring thrusters fired once more, pushing the vessel above the expected plane of the Drakh Cruisers course, and turning the portside batteries to face the anticipated arrival of the enemy warship.

The Drakh cruiser flashed arrogantly behind the shattered _Ha'tak _and died as the _Liberty _blew her wad, emptying the portside Q Batteries of their missiles even as the vessels permanent weapons, the Gauss rifle and the arrays of pulse reached out with lethal intent towards the cruiser.

* * *

"Bloody hell Cap," the voice interrupted the stunned quiet of the bridge, blaring over the intercom, awakening the three from their pained stupor, "what the hell did you do? You bent the blasted ship, I got an integrity light on the main spar and at least one of the pods has crumpled" 

Hitchin's laughed, it was the relieved shocked laugh of one who is still alive and how no real idea of how he managed it, "We just killed three enemy capital ships Master Bevis"

"Shitting hell," came the eventual response.

"Well," Johnson commented, glancing up from the furiously flashing lights of his console, "we aren't getting home under our own steam, we'll need a tow"

"That's unfortunate," Weiss noted, "but at least we finished the job first, and what a jolly good show it was"

"A Jolly Good Show?" Bevis replied incredulously over the intercom, "you _bent _the ship. The main spar reads as five degrees off the true"

Hitchin's blinked, "your kidding"

"Nope," Bevis replied, "you sir just put us into the body and fender for a while"

"If we're bound for the 'body and fender' as you call it chap," Weiss noted, "perhaps you would care to give us an opinion on where the chap about to appear in your starboard window is headed?"

There was no reply from the aft engineering section.


	10. 10: Not Always As They Seem

**GateWar Interludes**

**Interlude 10: Not always as they seem…  
by Chaoseternus**

_Set during 11: Disclosure _

_

* * *

_

_"Incoming Secessionist warcraft," _

Cursing, Boomer 608 rose from her desk, her hands swiftly tapping a security look-out on her mainframe access point before running; she left the tight, almost claustrophobic office for the massive basestars command centre, her eyes vacant as her mind analysed the swift, steady stream of data coming in over her network access.

The datastream cut-off and she hurried, knowing that the battle was joined and that all available bandwidth was now being redesignated to priority tasks only, such as raider control, orders, and reports, not to keeping the crew, even the Commander, aware of the exact minutiae of the battle.

She felt the floor underneath her shake just slightly as she stepped into the basestars heavily upgraded command centre and knew at that moment that the main weapons, Goa'uld designed energy blasters affixed to the ends of each arm of the ship, an act that necessitated the strengthening of the supports and the loss of some fighter spaces, were firing.

Her eyes dropped straight onto the flickering, shifting form of the holographic tactical display, the result of some swift butchery on a vo'cume as she stepped towards her post and she grimaced, two secessionist basestars had appeared, the arrival preceded by a fighter swarm.

The Secessionist craft she knew were better, their masters having been stealing and seizing technologies at every opportunity, indeed, she had heard several reports that they know had several examples of Tau'ri pulse weaponry technology available to them.

She hoped it wasn't true, that technology was an edge for the Tau'ri and they needed all of those they could get, it wasn't as if they could assist them after all.

New dots appeared on the tactical displays, rising up from the planet below, raiders mostly but there were several boarding craft and bombers, both based on the same heavy raider design but refitted and upgraded into different battlefield roles.

One Basestar, and a lot of support craft against two basestars and a lot of support craft… this could be _tricky. _Nevertheless, she would do all she could, they had their duty to the humans they were guarding after all.

"Sensor reports on the two basestars please," she asked calmly, the words loud in the quiet calm of the command centre.

The tactical display vanished, a flickering, distorted pair of shapes appearing, neither of them complete, but showing enough that Boomer knew her strategy for the battle in an instant.

"Ahead flank, close with the basestars, fighters to provide support, bombers and boarding craft to hold back for now," she ordered, her voice appearing calm but a slight quiver was there which to an experienced ear would speak of fear, anxiety.

Her bridge crew were all cylons, they counted as experienced ears but they did not comment, they knew that at that moment, their voices would most likely betray something too.

"Okay," Boomer said quietly, "back to the tactical display please,"

She watched, eyes hard as her fighters punched into those of the secessionists, vastly outnumbered, but fighting hard nonetheless, many would die but there was a resurrection point in the next system, they would not stay dead.

"Switch fire," Boomer 608 finally ordered, her eyes following the range marker for the main batteries as it passed over the two enemy basestars, encompassing them, "all main batteries, fire as you bare on the enemy capital ships"

Her eyes ticked across just a second to the ships own status displays, noting the swiftly eroding shield strength and the increasing numbers of gaps in the fighter strength boards, but knowing that most likely, such damage didn't matter anymore.

"No return fire from the enemy basestars,"

Boomer smiled, it was grim smile of determination and satisfaction, "of course not, they had too many fighter bays, no room for ship to ship weapons. Move up the bombers and boarding craft, I want one of those hulls captured for refit into the fleet… _with _ship to ship weapons"

She smirked, "and find out if a Doral unit was in charge, these 'I have more fighters then you therefore I'll win are exactly the sorts of tactics those paperpushers would use"

* * *

At the edge of the battlefield, unnoticed, a small black craft watched, its sensors greedily sucking in every detail of the battle, its IFF switched off, only a large grey icon on the hull marking it as a secessionist intelligence gathering platform. 

The craft watched eagerly, greedily as the taskforce was destroyed, its transmission receptors logging gigabytes of data as the heretical human-loving cylons attempting to figure out why exactly the secessionist basestars had been unmanned.


	11. 11: Plague World II

**GateWar Interludes**

**Interlude 11: Plague World II**  
**by Chaoseternus**

**Follow-up to Interlude one: Plague World**

**

* * *

**

The ship was a mess, albeit an organised mess. All over I could see clearly into the workings of the ships, protective covers, panelling, all removed from every section, all taken off ship and dumped. Even the control crystals and stores had been carted out of the ship.

We wanted this baby, Earth wanted this baby. A mothership, a _Cheops _would easily be the largest warship hull in the Tau'ri navy. She was old of course, outdated, but presuming she passed the structural integrity tests, which despite the worn appearance of the outer hull appeared likely, she could be refitted and brought into operational use.

Frankly, we could use the hull anyway, even if we did have to break her down for parts. For now however, she had to be disinfected, a mission I was not happy to take on, but was grimly determined to complete and do it properly.

I, more then most, knew exactly how dangerous this beast and the secret she hid could be.

Grimacing, I stepped forward, my armour whining in my ears, carefully stepping dead centre of the corridor. I knew my gait was still awkward, I knew that I was still far from used to the prosthetic that had replaced my left foot and I knew that the armour whilst it protected my from the ravages of any surviving bacteria, would only magnify any mistake I was to make, increasing the damage to the unprotected and vulnerable insides of the ship.

Okay, so we had removed every single item that wasn't directly bolted down and indeed, more then a few things that had been bolted down, but still, these suits were heavy and strong, a single misplaced move in the wrong spot could cause a lot of damage.

As I walked, my eyes tracked across the corridors, checking above; below everywhere for a spot the bastard creation Ra had lost control of aboard this ship could hide. I found few, my team like I had seen the dangers of this bug first hand and were wary and thorough.

They needed to be, experiments had shown just how fast this bacteria could break down leaving tissue, multiplying with efficiency that would make a tribble proud and it was scary.

We would love to have abandoned this world, post our own warding sign and lock it out of the dialling computer but the mothership nixed that. We wanted, we _needed _that hull.

So we take a risk. We know the bacteria is unusually vulnerable to heat, particularly sustained heat so we repaired the ships airlocks, removed everything we could and then we brought aboard a trio of naquadah reactors, though truly this only needed one, and a hellacious number of heaters.

The corridors were lined with electric cabling, heaters at every intersection and along every corridor, all working to maintain this ship at a solid 65 0 C. Far higher then we needed to kill the bacteria but we had to be sure. It had to be left for days too, today was day six and we had plans to leave her like this another twenty days more.

And whilst that was happening, bar the four times a day inspection, this hull was sealed, empty, once more abandoned to its own devices.

We had other tasks to complete after all. Right now, the rest of my team were inspecting other areas of the hull, checking the cabling for faults, making sure everything was working well. Team two were on perimeter defence, which meant three members of the team were at the gate whilst the other two walked the rest of the perimeter, not that we truly expected an attack by land, not on this world. Team three, as memory serves me, should be off-duty as should team five, both would be in the protected and hot compound whose setting up had been our first objective. That left team four with the fiddly job of attempting to decontaminate every component we had removed from the ship, a not easy task when you consider that they have to wear their full armoured suits the whole time.

This is not an easy task and we have had our accidents, indeed, over the month we have been here six people have died due to suit failures of one sort or another and they have died in agony. A seventh survived, we got to him quick enough but Bane will never ever walk again.

This is a dangerous job. We expected that, the first loss was still very much a shock and an eye-opening though, I knew the dangers, as did my team though that didn't save Bane, but the other had just been told and didn't truly understand or believe.

They lost that naivety quickly enough.

Still, another inspection complete, another day almost over, time to head back to the compound and broil. The only place you could remove, maintain your armour, eat, sleep and more, and naturally, it was the hottest spot on the entire mission. After this mission, I don't think I am ever going to look at a heater the same way again, nor complain so much when it snows. Right now, I would enjoy some refreshing cold.


	12. Freedom Rites

**12: Freedom Rites  
by chaoseternus**

I was born a miner, of a long line of miners that had plumbed the depths of Caprica since the log forgotten years of Landing but though I followed the family tradition and joined my fellows in those dark, damp and warm warrens beneath the ground I never truly understood the ground in which I worked.

I mined, I dug, I learned, and with the weight of my family's name behind me I swiftly progressed from simple digger, to mine engineer, then manage then finally architect, but I was never more then a studious amateur, the ground did not speak to me of its traps, its bounties like it did my father. He could walk the length and breadth of a mine just once and know exactly where to dig, where to avoid, where to prop and where to pump. I too could tell you all those things but I would need my tools, my measurements and my computers and I wouldn't always be right.

No, I knew how to mine, I knew how to dig, I knew how to tear the precious resources from the ground but the ground did not care for me, and it did not speak to me.

Not even at the end.

It's ironic really, at the time of the Fall I was at the opening of a new mine, five years of surveying, measuring, politicking and only recently had we achieved the final green, the go ahead to pull the Lords gifts out of the ground, the gift in this case being of hematite, iron ore, almost all of which would end up as steels for construction and for tools.

Two years to the day since that opening and I am founding a new mine once more, this too is for hematite, most of which will again end up as steel but this mine is not on Caprica, its not home, its on the surface of a distant world, the new home for the shattered fragments of our humanity that managed to escape the clutches of the heretical cylons. This time I am mine foreman, this mine is mine to control, and to nourish. I thought I could not handle such a task, not given the few people available who have experience in such matters but its easy, I know now where to mine and where to prop, where to pump and where to avoid, the ground itself speaks to me as the soil of Caprica never did.

I try hard not to see any implications in that, but as I toss and turn at night, desperate to find sleep I can not help but wonder, why is it the ground of this alien world that speaks to me when the ground of Caprica never did? Why is it that I can understand and know this place far better then my own?

Was it that I always knew that I would be called to mine this place, the pull the precious resources out of this distant ground?

The thoughts disturb me often, and I do not know how to answer them.

* * *

They call me the Angel of the _Celestia, _the ship that brought me and so many others to the relative safety of this far star, they call me saviour and look up to me with trusting thankful eyes as I give what comfort I can, and try, as best I might, to cure their ills with the trickle of expensive alien medicines the Earthers send me, medicines I don't understand and do not entirely trust.

How can they call me saviour, do they not know who I am?

No, they know, they just do not seem to understand, they can not place me as being the same face that graced a thousand newspapers and a million screens, they cannot see me as the Butcher of Heracles Gate.

I was incompetent, I was a drunkard and I killed near fifty people in that town before the authorities found me out, stripped me of my degree and tossed me into prison. I have no right to be an Angel, no right to pretend to heal, to be pretend to know what I am doing.

Do they not understand what I am?

I am a killer, the blood that stains these hands will never wash off, and yet despite me telling them of who I am, reminding them of what I did, its to me they come, its me they want as their Doctor, its me they want healing their children, their loves, their mothers.

I do not understand them, I do not understand why its me many choose to come to, but when they come, when they gaze at me with their trusting eyes, when thye place their precious, abused faith in me I find it truly hard to say no, to turn them away to somebody who might actually know what they are doing.

I am no Doctor, not any more; I lost that right many years ago, but Lords, what have I became? And what please is this path I walk now?

* * *

I wonder often at the irony of life as I walk the scattered, hastily built streets and ways of Freedom, my truncheon at my side, my stride slow, but purposeful, steady, accepting the nods and greetings of the citizenry as I past, most seeing not me but the uniform I wear.

Only two police officers survived the fall, neither of whom was me, but they needed more and I could walk the walk, I could talk the talk, my record was clean and I had more then a rudimentary understanding of law, so I was asked to join and I accepted.

Now, I patrol these streets, I try to keep the order in these hard and difficult times, always aware that stress levels were always high and that not all had survived the fall with their sanity exactly intact, and I try to be just and fair and all the while I contemplate irony.

Irony is the senior most beat officer on the planet learned the ways and means of the Police not to become one of them but to avoid being caught by them. Irony is the best known but least seen cat burglar of Gemon City, whose successes are supposed to have netted fifteen million worth of goods in just ten years now seeking out the thieves, the charlatans and worse. Irony is a man whose head was once worth a ten thousand bounty now determining the bounty on others heads.

So, as I walk the walk and as I talk the talk and do my best to keep the peace in these harsh times, I always find my thoughts returning to that one simple word and what it truly means to me now.


	13. First Strike

**13: First Strike  
by chaoseternus  
**_Continuation of Live Free!_

Hel'tec grimaced as she glanced over the tactical displays at the warships arrayed before her, the aging _Ha'taks, _ oversized _Cheops _and _Ral'tecs _ and a scattering of _Ha'tens _ seized from Maktenos's forces. Too few were upgraded, most still at the levels of technology and systems the old system lords used. With the exception of the _Ha'tens, _none was a real match for the warships of Anubis or Maktenos but they would have to do. They had no other choice, Ba'al was the last lingering remnant of the System Lords and he had to be dealt with.

Of course, that meant a trip of several months to an unexplored area of space for which they had little intelligence to try and face off a Planetary defence network that had almost certainly been completed in the near year since they first attacked Ba'als fledgling Empire, and this time they had to do it without Tau'ri assistance. They had enough troubles of their own.

Still, lessons were being learnt from their allies, the Free Jaffa warriors had the benefit now of Tau'ri training in small unit tactics and some ship to ship skills, still not up to Tau'ri levels but still far better then the stupid stand up straight, walk towards enemy and shoot' tactics that had gotten so many Jaffa killed before the rise of the rebellion. Not to mention, the addition of basic rockets and missiles to all the _Udajeeet _ fighters and the addition of some basic targeting systems. Simple improvements but when the pilots knew how to use them, those simple additions made the _Udajeet _ so much more deadly then there unmodified predecessors. Of course, the day had already passed for the fighters, more weapons of intimidation then actual fighters to be replaced, but still they had to soldier along with what they had.

These small changes created a qualitative edge over Ba'als troops probably. Ba'al was a wily, dangerous one, never to be underestimated. But the job still had to be done and for the second time, she had to be the one to do it, despite the attempts of certain members of the Jaffa council to have her killed for her failure.

The support ships have arrived and are ready Warleader.

Hel'tec nodded, ignoring the Jaffas hesitation at the unfamiliar title, and gave the command to make way.

* * *

Hel'tec knew something was wrong as soon as they hit the world that on the first trip had held the remnants of an early coal based industrial society. The world had been devastated before the previous trip, between their visits the world had been stripped, every piece of refined metals taken from the cities, towns farms as well as anything else remotely usable including the populace.

Not a single person left alive on the surface that they could find and not a single scrap of refined materials. It was eerie and the mount of effort it would have taken yet the rubble left behind was already being covered with small plants and the beginnings of growth. The project was obviously long completed meaning it must have been done almost immediately after they left and done swiftly too.

Each world they passed was much the same, if the natives had anything of the slightest value then it had been taken and that included the natives themselves. There were scattered remains on the surface of each world but mostly off the old and infirm, those useless in Ba'als eyes.

Truly not at all surprising given the nature of the System Lords, just unusually through and well thought out and executed.

But still, they had yet to arrive at Ba'als new homeworld and its formidable defences.

* * *

Ba'al _has _ been busy, Hel'tec commented idly, whilst inside she shook with shock and more then a little awe.

Twenty defensive platforms, each the size of a full mothership but being fixed orbital emplacements, having no need for the massive hyperdrives and in-system propulsion systems. All that free space, devoted to more weapons, more shields, more power

It was frightening.

There was of course one bright side to this, the scans showed the facilities to be of variable quality, some were built with trinium to full Goa'uld standards most used only Goa'uld circuitry and systems, the bulk of the stations being hastily thrown together from lesser metals, iron, steel, even some bronze.

At least she now knew why the primitive worlds had been so well stripped of metals, and also were the humans of those worlds had gone, the planet below teemed with life, transmission sources and pollutants.

There were no ships however and that sparked disquiet. No ships was surprising, Ba'al would almost certainly want some way of getting away or ambushing her own forces. If he had managed to produce enough cloaked ships they could be a very real threat and what they could not see they could hardly fight.

Yet she couldn't risk this bastion remaining here and strong, it would be all to easy for Ba'al to use it as strong point to rebuild and then slowly expand into the surrounding worlds. No, it could not be risked; it also threw the pre-existing plan of a straight assault into doubt. Yes, she had expected a few more stations operational but not so many.

A rethink was needed.

Perhaps she narrowed her eyes, gazing closely at the sensor displays then nodded sharply, her mind made up.

Eight seconds.

In battle, eight seconds was a major window of vulnerability, eight seconds in which they were vulnerable, protected only by the ships armour and the surprise of their close arrival, carefully dropping out of hyperdrive dangerously close to the planets gravity well, bringing the enemy weapons platforms straight into weapons range and them right into the enemies kill zone.

It all came down to who reacted faster, a large part of her expected to feel the cold, dead blankness of space long before her own weapons went live. Her chest hurt and she forced herself to breathe, forcing herself to trust in the warriors fighting with her, they knew how critical the timing was, how well things could go if they got it right and how badly if they were caught by the enemy.

The ships shuddered, and she breathed out slowly as she realized it wasn't the harsh crash of inbound fire, but the muted rocking of their own main weapons opening up.

She glanced at the tactical display, and grinned, her won forces all had their shields up, the first immediate blasts of weapons fire at the closest target had ceased and now the fire of the ten ships she had brought was being co-ordinated on quickly killing the most vulnerable of the platforms in range.

The grin slipped, the sole original' station in range had opened fire but far too slowly and far too reactively, there was no prediction or adaptation in its patterns. The other, newer stations were slower still and far too inaccurate.

Unnoticed, she began to chew her nails as an icy pit settled in her stomach. Something was wrong here; she just could not see what

She glanced up momentarily as a mild cheer filled the room, glancing back at the display she nodded as their first target, a station whose hull was weak bronze and overly heavy iron and steel began to break up, the heavy parts quickly being drawn to the planet as the stations dampening fields failed.

Moments later, a second station failed, almost intact bar a large whole where some critical component, either the primary power distributor or the generators themselves used to be. Dark and powerless, it began to drift, ignored by both sides.

A third station collapsed, leaving just the original' station protecting this small area of sky, at least until the other platforms shifted orbits, adapting to fill the new hole.

This would be the tough nut, but it needed to be cracked before the rest of the fleet could move in and exploit the bridgehead. But she had a plan for this too.

Launch fighters, and tell them to begin the attack in sections,

_Udajeets _ were of little to no threat to Goa'uld stations or ships, simply because the shields could easily shrug aside the strikes from their enlarged staff weapons, as could their armour. But she had modified _Udajeets, _mounting either a pair of missiles, one under each wing, or a pair of unguided rockets, all tipped with refined naquadah.

A _Ha'tak _died whilst the fighters launched, its shields finally overcome by the weight of oncoming fire, and two more broke off, debris trailing in their wake. Then, abruptly, hundreds of bright spots of light danced across the shields as if, for just a moment, the station was under attack by a legion a fireflies. Vengefully, the station turned its fire from the oncoming warships, sending bolts after the fleeing fighters and Hel'tec began to have a dreadful suspicion, even the greenest Jaffa would know they were spent, their missiles fired, no further threat. Ba'al certainly would yet the station continued to ignore the greater threat, it was almost as if...

A.I.

Of course, Ba'al knew his location had been compromised somehow so instead of hanging around to face the return of his attackers he had fled, but not before ensuring some payment would be enacted from anyone returning to complete the job.

There was undoubtedly some clue either on the ground or on the stations to where he had gone, but Ba'al most likely assumed they would simply destroy the station without realising what had happened. This could be of use, not merely for information but as a base of operations for the area.

Sound the retreat, defensive fire only and find me some way of communicating with the Tau'ri pronto. I need some computer techs.

If the defense grid could be turned to their cause they would have to break down some of the more pathetic stations of course, the parts would be needed to maintain the other stations and repair the damage done to her own ships, but the potential... It was an idea at least.


	14. New Toys, Old Tricks

**14: New Toys, Old Tricks.  
by chaoseternus**

_Paladins _everywhere and not a boat to fly

Or at least, not a tub I would want to fly. With the sheer bulk of the _Paladin _force being prepped for the planned capture mission of a Basestar, a mission the Colonials were leading, that left the bare minimum craft available for day to day operations.

Not that that really mattered much to me as day to day operations wasn't something I was generally bothered with, except so far as I have to worry about hitting something.

Not that that was too much of a worry, the area of space reserved for flight tests was generally given a wide berth even when not in use, every since that incident where a _Lancers _ targeting computer was miss-wired into the navigation systems

Still, going back to tubs I _didn't _ want to fly, witness the craft I now strap myself into, another _Paladin _variant amongst dozens. In fact, there seems to be an unwritten rule about modifying a _Paladin _ if you need something new cooked up, but again, I digress.

This _Paladin _ didn't have a central passenger or cargo compartment, no this _Paladin _ had missile storage and a retractable launcher, not for anything halfway sensible like sidewinder or sparrow missiles, oh no, this launcher was for target drones. Missiles built well rebuilt actually to have powerful transmitters that made them look like a bigger target then they actually were, lots of clever programming and viola, you have something your gunnery crews or hotshot pilots can shoot down and get some practise with.

Of course, some bloody bugger has to launch the damn things in the first place and control them hence this new trick for an old bird.

Unfortunately, I got a glimpse of the disappointment in General O'Neil's eyes when he was informed that the bloody thing was not going to be rigged to fire live' missiles so I rather suspect I know what the next modification is going to be pocket gunboat anyone? Not a bad idea actually, some heavy support for fighter squadrons that capable of making its own way out of trouble if necessary but again I digress.

Lift off pretty good. Tendency to tilt forwards slightly and certainly a higher load on the forward stabilisers then I would like so certainly some minor tweaks of the load and mass distribution to be considered but nothing major.

Clean exit from atmosphere to space, no pressure or integrity warnings not that I expected any anyway, that would be a major safety breech. Besides, somebody else got the fun job of doing the basic flights systems checks; I'm just here for the fun part. Testing the launcher and how it affects the craft.

Chase craft now shows up on my high port, a _Lancer Alpha _. Hope I don't need him but space is space, if something goes wrong even if your friends have a good idea where you are still no guarantees they will find you. Doubly so when you consider the debris floating around the system, some natural, some very definitely not

Reach the firing range, run a last few systems checks and finger my rosary one last time. Then I reach forward, and flip a switch, my eyes resting on a monitor displaying feed from a camera mounted just below the cockpit, gazing backwards at the launcher deploying from the starboard side of the craft.

Clean deployment as far as the camera is concerned, system checks agree

So no real point putting it off.

I reach forward and then curse, my eardrums ringing as the command for all non-combat craft to go silent echoes in my eardrums, along with hurried orders to operational units. Appears we have a trio of bogies

A trio of bogies too concerned with moping up non-combatants and avoiding the main guns of _Ravenbright, _can't imagine why Arseholes. Will be a few minutes however before all the systems defence craft and warships gather and counter attack and in the meantime those bastards are going to do some real damage.

What's the betting they flee as soon as they see our forces ready to move to assault them?

Well, that would not be too healthy for me see, if they want to avoid _Ravenbright _and avoid being heavily engaged then most likely vaped by the combined Earth and Colonial defenders then they are almost certainly likely to fall back in my direction.

Lucky me, this was just supposed to be an in system test flight so minimal naquedah in the reactor, certainly not enough for any kind of FTL jump.

I am so screwed; about the only thing that would stop my arse being grassed right now would be a friendly fleet just happening to appear around me in enough strength to make those bloody _Ha'taks _ go elsewhere.

Wait

I have six unfired target drones don't I?

Unproven drones, unproven launcher, unproven control software Well, at least they got the varsity designing the setup this time not the hacks who have so far failed to create a workable drone, despite the _Dauntless _ class having been intended to carry them since day one But still, lets see what kind of havoc I can dream up for the _Ha'taks, _mustn't get too greedy though, otherwise they might figure something is up.

Lets see, the profile the missile can ape the best is the _Dauntless _ class, _Prometheus _class currently lacks a lot of the low scanner return technologies of the _Dauntless _II and _Britannica _classes so drains the emitters limited power too quickly and the _Battlestars _ are just plain too big.

Still, if six ships just appear where their sensors could only pick up nothing before or maybe just one small support craft, why then they might just get suspicious. Damn.

Can the drones fake a hyperspace jump point?

Huh.

They can, well at least according to the options on my menu here. Apparently this was an option created by Carter and Kalinda which completely burns out the missile

Okay, set two to fake the arrival of the ships then four as _Dauntless _ class and see what the Goa'uld do with _that. _

I type quickly, my hands darting over the controls then I grimly place both hands on the stick. I rather suspect the _Paladin _ is going to kick when those babies launch.

I tap the launch key.

Bucking bronco baby!

Talk about your off axis thrusts, I am definitely going to have words with the engineers about that. Shouldn't have to redline the thrusters to regain control after one launch this craft is supposed to do this day in day out in the future after all, no something will have to be done. Assuming I survive of course.

Warned and ready, I tap the launch key again, already firing the thrusters to oppose the jolt of the drones launch.

Then the third, the fourth, fifth and the sixth.

A minute later, a muted flash fills the screen and I know one way or another, whether I live or die probably just got decided for me.

* * *

"So, this batch of drones works then?" Colonel O'Neil grinned.

"Well," Carter shrugged, "the Goa'uld certainly bought it. Finding themselves sandwiched between the real fleet arrayed around _Galactica, Ravenbright _ and her defences and the sudden appearance of four destroyers in their path they didn't exactly wait to surrender."

"Three more _Ha'taks."_

"Three more ships that are useless in their current condition and need a serious refit to be of any use," she countered.

"True," O'Neil shrugged, "still, you best get going, you got a craft to check out."

Carter smiled and nodded, leaving O'Neil alone in his office, where he pursed his lips and then tapped swiftly at his phone, "Carter is on her way Colonel. Mind telling me why you didn't want her to read your report on the crafts launching characteristics?"

"Oh no reason General, no reason at all..."


	15. Plagueworld III

**Interlude 15: Plague World III  
by Chaoseternus**

I walked through the ship slowly, my eyes darting everywhere, wary.

Supposedly this ship was safe now, but I had been here too long to ever really consider this wreck safe, not with the depredations of a thousand years of abandonment, not with… the plague.

Thirteen dead, just to return this aged, battered hull to Alpha Centauri and we weren't there yet. Hell, we had yet to leave. We had done all we could in the bulky powersuits and equally cumbersome NBC suits as far as repairs and decontamination was concerned but this was still a vessel much in need of some shipyard time.

Old outdated weapons and shields, a large and valuable hull, we couldn't travel through space like this, not on our own. We were too big of a tempting target and if somebody came and took the vessel from us without knowing about the bacteria, there was a potential for true disaster.

We needed an escort.

That in itself was a problem, with the Sol and Alpha Centauri systems intermittently under siege, the slow return of the battlegroup and all our other commitments, the concept of spare or available warships just didn't exist in the modern spacegoing Earthforce…or Tau'ri Star Service, depending on which politician you asked.

I heard that all that was being sent was a _Dauntless. _ I truly hoped this wasn't true, the royals had built a warship perfect for the scouting or battlegroup support roles but not really a vessel for operating independently, they really lacked sufficient weapons and bunkerage for that.

Not that they seemed to do much well, witness the unreliable and unsafe mess that was the _Lancers _ or the constant rebuilding of _Thundersdawn. _ It was certainly true that they had gotten far too much prominence in the newly formed joint military then they deserved, not that a mere Gatecrasher sergeant was even asked about such things.

I glance across, sighing, noting the soot covering the unnecessarily gaudy gold lining of the walls. This section was almost certainly clear, barring any cross-contamination; it had after all gotten a bit warmer in this area then was strictly required to destroy the bacteria, thanks to an electrical failure in the jury-rigged heaters and wires.

Dobson died here, fighting the fire. That shouldn't have happened; he was in his armour at the time, not the NBC suits of the bulk of the workers. But electric is electric and the armour, a very sophisticated mix of ceramics, plastics and _metals. _

A chime shines in my helmet and I grimace, irritated as I hear the _Defiant _announce itself. Not just a mere _Dauntless, _a nothing compared to the strength and capability of our _Prometheus _ class ships but when that had been handed lock stock and barrel over to a Goa'uld, not just an enemy but an enemy _traitor. _

And one who's who vessel had been in refit for months and as such the crew would certainly have lost their edge.

Absol-fucking-lutely brilliant.

Nevertheless, I gave the order to launch and depart. It wasn't as if I had much choice after all.

* * *

"My Lady, I don't think the Tau'ri sergeant is best pleased at their escort." Enerist stated calmly, the corner of her mouth ticking slightly upwards.

Enerina shook her head, "young, arrogant, pig-headed, sure of his own superiority?"

"Hers," Enerist grinned, "and very much so."

"It is always such with forces that believe themselves to be elite,"

"Until such time as the arrogance gets knocked out of them, and life itself will take care of that in time,"

Enerina's expression became contemplative, "as it did for me you mean? Or as it did for the rest of the Goa'uld?"

Her first prime of sorts frowned at this, but after a few moments nodded, reluctantly agreeing, "the perils of an unnaturally long life I suppose, that it might take an unnaturally long time for nature to take it course and remind you of your place. In the meantime, the damage you can cause…"

"Enough," Enerina shook her head, "as soon as the beast is ready we will leave, be ready to proceed at their best speed."

"My Lord, I am picking up an unusually large vessel transiting hyperspace at low speed."

"How large?"

"Approximately the size of a _Cheops _ or _Rel'tec _ My Lord."

The Goa'uld hissed, warily lying back in his throne, "such a threat… but such a prize!"

"My lord,"

"Send an _Al-Kesh _ cloaked to investigate."

* * *

"It may be a ship, but if so it is very small,"

" _Al-kesh, _" Enerina notted, glancing with eyebrows raised at the nervous human 'loaner' Technical Sergeant who was duty sensor officer.

"Quite probably,"

"Can we obtain a lock?"

Gulping, he responded, stammering slightly, making his Adams apple bob disconcertingly "No, the return isn't strong enough for that."

"I was under the impression this was an empty area of space, that was the whole purpose behind this routing!"

"A number of lesser Goa'uld's have fled the purges that decimated the system lords, if one fled to this area…" Enerist pointed out.

"This is a problem."

"Luckily, the Admiralty planned for problems…"

* * *

"One _Tau'ri _warship and a battered hulk of a _Cheops. _" The Goa'uld was displeased, "they've been where they shouldn't. Ra didn't _want _ to abandon that project."

"Do you wish us to capture the _Cheops _?"

"No," he mused, stroking his sideburns idly, "in its present state it is of little use. The greater prize is the so-called _Dauntless. _"

"My Lord."

* * *

"New contacts! Multiple inbound bogies, I'm reading two squadrons of _Al-kesh _, a _Ha'tak _and a trio of _Tel'tacs. _"

"Inform the beast, and prepare to engage," Enerina noted swiftly.

"We should whittle down the _Al-kesh _ first, least they whittle us down."

"Indeed," Enerina grinned, "signal the beast; order them to target the _Al-kesh _ with whatever they can bring to bear. Let's deal with those _Tel'tacs _ first, least somebody get ideas about boarding actions."

* * *

"Mai'tac!" Apep cursed sharply, leaning forward, bringing his reptilian Unas host into the light of the bridge, "how did they know?"

His Jaffa declined to answer, knowing that a sarky comment about not making the presence of _Tel'tacs _ so obvious in the future was unlikely to go over well. Even if said _Tel'tacs _ were only filled with barely trained human slaves with a scant few Jaffa to ensure discipline and purpose.

He hid a slight shrug as a brilliant glare revealed the destruction of the first of the _Tel'tacs, _his hands almost languidly moving across the controls as he placed them exactly and effortlessly where they needed to be, no wasted effort in setting the _Ha'taks _guns to fire in support of the surviving _Tel'tacs. _

* * *

"The _Defiant _just destroyed the second _Tel'tac… _the third is withdrawing behind the _Ha'tak. _"

"Good," her power armour whined slightly as she leaned forward, "now 'suggest' to Enerina that she moves to support us and help destroy these fucking _Al-kesh _ before they finish us off."

* * *

"Temper temper," Enerina shook her head, "I understand she's overworked and has been under a lot of stress recently , doubly so with having to relearn to walk but still, I think we may need a file a reprimand when this is over."

"Agreed," Enerist commented, then smiled, "and now both our friends and our enemies have the idea that there are only two combatants on our side, so lets change that tune shall we. Launch drones, tell me to quietly move behind the _Ha'tak _ and then initiate the Waybourne strategy."

* * *

The Waybourne strategy was named after the Colonel, who mere months before had come up with it on the fly whilst flying a prototypal _Paladin _ variant around _Alpha Centauri _ during an unexpected attack by a Goa'uld scouting force.

Two drones fake hyperspace jumps points, the other four…

* * *

"My Lord! Four new vessels approaching from the rear! They appear to be Tau'ri destroyers!"

Apep was displeased, he had been under the impression that for all their vaunted skill, the Tau'ri didn't have that many warships to spare for an operation in a backwater like this, hence why he had chosen it as the foundation of his new empire.

To find _one _ Tau'ri vessel was bad luck but survivable, but five and a cripple?

This was more then bad luck.

"The new vessels are the greater threat, leave one squadron of _Al-kesh _to keep the first destroyer and the _Cheops _ occupied, the rest should engage the new arrivals."

* * *

"They bought it,"

"For the moment," Enerina glanced at the technical sergeant as he continued, "I estimate we have at most four more minutes before the bombers get close enough to the drones to actually see them."

"Very well," she grinned, it wasn't a particularly nice grin, "transfer targeting data to the drones guidance systems and prepare their cores for overload."

Enerist blinked, "they wont have much Naquadah left for an overload,"

The Goa'uld turned human ally shrugged, "regardless of what 'supply' might think, I find it doubtful we are going to be able to hang around to recover the drones so I see no disadvantage in damaging some _Al-kesh _ and preventing their hostile recovery."

* * *

"Drones?"

"I thought the drones aboard the _Dauntless _ class were flawed."

"General Carter had a hand in the design of the newer models I heard."

"That would explain a lot,"

* * *

"Reform the _Al-kesh, _" Apep ordered darkly, "consolidate into a single squadron and launch the _Udajeet, _order them to provide cover for the _Al-kesh _."

"My Lord,"

He sat back in his chair, thoroughly irritated, knowing that the _Udajeet _ would do almost nothing against the destroyer or the battered _Cheops _ unless they got sucidal, but knowing also he needed more bodies out their to reduce the rate at which his bombers were being destroyed.

And to top it off, the blasted Tau'ri hadn't bothered to fire a _single _ shot yet at his _Ha'tak! _

* * *

"They've launched fighters!"

" _Udajeet." _ Enerina commented amused.

"Lots of them," Enerist caught her master's eyes, "enough that they cant have any room for more surprises in the _Ha'taks _ bays."

"Good, signal 889 Squadron."

* * *

"My Lord,"

Apep leaned forward once more, as his first Prime spoke once more.

"Fighters have dropped out of hyperspace on our flank, unknown class."

"More drones, ignore them."

"My Lord."

* * *

"Those aren't drones…"

"Too small for patrol craft, too big for fighters, what the fuck are those?"

" _Strikers. _"

The Gatecrasher Sergeant looked up startled, "I thought there was only a single operational squadron of those!"

"Doesn't mean they've saving them for a rainy day Sabbat,"

* * *

A squadron of fighters, in theory, consists of twenty craft. For operational purposes, that means four 'fingers' of four fighters each plus the spares, another four craft.

No Tau'ri space fighter squadron could truly boast those kinds of numbers as yet, not with operational losses and maintenance needs, but 889 Squadron was an Earth based squadron with direct access to the supplies and equipment it needed and despite having had to flee Manston on several occasions, had a support crew that was very personally aware of the costs of not being ready.

Fourteen _Strikers _ dropped out of hyperspace on the flank of the _Ha'tak _, a warship that promptly labelled them drones and ignored them.

The _Striker _class had been labelled the A-10 _Warthog _ of space, and the reason was simple. They had a pylon supporting 3 missiles beneath each 'wing', another above, and a third at the tip where the T-shaped wing split, supporting an engine below and above the wing, way out from the crafts centre of gravity. The craft also held four missiles on the fuselage for a grand total of 22 missiles _per __Striker. _

The fourteen _Strikers _ carried a grand total of 308 missiles, a mixed bag of modified _Sparrows _ and _Sidewinders. _

They didn't fire them all at the _Ha'tak, _they didn't need too.

And after that, they went after the _Al-kesh, _showing startling manoeuvrability for bombers, pumping their twin pulse lasers and remaining missiles into the demoralised and fleeing _Al-kesh. _

* * *

"She seemed a little more respectful this time Milady,"

Enerina smiled, she too had noticed the more subdued yet somehow gleeful tone in the voice of the Gatecrasher sergeant as she had reported on damages and repairs, "Perhaps that reprimand won't be necessary?"

"Perhaps,"


	16. Guilt and Lies

**GateWar Interludes**

**Interlude 16: Guilt And Lies  
by Chaos_eternus**

_Set during 4: Thundergate_

It's my fault.

How can I tell them this when they look at me with the beginnings of trust? How can I tell them when it would be so easy to crush this feeble glimmering of hope within me and make it die, make them believe than no Goa'uld can truly be trusted? Kill the last glimmer of hope that I have for my people?

We are the worst of beings, we could be symbiotes but we choose to be parasites, choose to enslave, choose to suck the strength and power from others. Choose individual strength over a greater unity.

So I made my choice, my choice to escape.

I think perhaps I had made the choice years before I consciously realized it.

But opportunity, such was rare and a place to be safe, a place where I could be strong, trusted, useful. A place where perhaps I could work towards a better future for the Goa'uld, a future where we could be seen as potential allies, potential friends.

I ask so much.

But I can offer nothing except my choice.

A choice towards a better future, but one not honestly obtained. Can a better future exist from a lie? Can my children live in a world where they can be considered useful members of society when the entire society was built on lies?

No, not lies.

Omissions.

I set the Tau'ri up.

The plan which trapped so many of their warriors, which resulted in Maktenos gaining a Tau'ri as a host, a trap which skirted so close to success was all my idea, my plan.

They were the least bad of all bad choices, hating the Goa'uld, never trusting but on occasion, willing to work with us. They had shown not just that they had the strength of will to resist, so many had displayed that over the centuries of our rule, but that they had the intelligence to know how they could best resist, what battles to fight and which to avoid.

But if I went up to them and tried to defect, I would simply be an intelligence assest, drained of my knowledge, 'trusted' under carefully controlled conditions. I would be a tool.

Now, I have proven a wiliness to fight for them.

I am proving a wiliness to follow orders and requests with this side trip to the Tollan homeworld. I prove myself, and I will have to with every step I take and every word I say.

This will not be easy, but is anything worth fighting for truly easy?

That I do not know, those kinds of choices are rare in the memory of my ancestors. I can only think of one other who made a similar choice and she didn't go as far as she should. Egeria may have realized we are not Gods, but she never left the Goa'uld arrogance behind, a trait that still clings to her own children.

Perhaps with my choices, I can gain the trust of the Tau'ri and from that trust, gain their protection. With that protection, with that strength, can I, a single Goa'uld Queen, begin the rebirth of our people?

I do not know.

I must try.

I can not do anything else.

Yet, in time I know the truth will out. My lies, my manipulations will become clear, should I admit know and blow out the fragile candle of hope or wait, hope I have a solid enough grasp of my goals that they will continue anyway when the Tau'ri reject me for what I have omitted?

I do not know the best part and the indecision worries me, yet I must do what I must. The goal matters… but is the way you achieve it any less important?

Sometimes I think it would have been so much easier just to be a normal Goa'uld.

* * *

"It was your masters plan that resulted in that mess on PC-49x wasn't it?"

"Yes,"

A sigh, a slight shake of the head, deep thought, then "she will never be fully trusted until she proves she is fully able to trust us, that means trusting us to make the right choices as well."

"I understand that," a nod at the unspoken implication, "but how did you know?"

"We have an expression, about wearing your heart on your sleeve,"

"I do not understand,"

"No, you don't."

Puzzled, Enerist gazed after O'Neill as he walked away, then with a slight shrug at the vagaries of the Tau'ri, turned back to her work.


	17. A Fine Dish

**GateWar Interludes**

**17: A fine dish…  
by Chaos_eternus**

"You do realise, the last time one of these rigs got used, _Liberty _ bent her main spar and ended up in the hands of the yard dogs for months?"

Carter shot the Captain a dry smile, "that's true but the raids on the supply lines to Edonia are picking up again, we can't ignore it."

"Yes, maybe, and of course they are never going to expect us to pull the same trick twice."

He got a tight smile in response, "not quite the same trick…"

"New missiles…" he shrugged, "well, we'll see. If they have any sense, after the _Liberty _ incident, they are probably keeping their hyperdrives hot at all times."

"Maybe," Carter smiled, "but whilst Anubis knows something happened to the previous raiding squadron, we don't believe he knows exactly what. In fact, the indications are that he thinks _Liberty _was just the bait, that there was another ship involved as well."

Fanelli considered this a moment, "well, that explains the escort. You do realize when they spot her she is going to get pounded?"

" _Yorktown __'s _ Captain had been briefed. He knows what he is in for."

"I hope your right, that's all I can say," He replied grimacing, "but we will see shortly wont we?"

"Contact! Two _Ha'taks _ coming in hard and fast!"

"Any sign they have spotted _Yorktown __? _" Carter asked swiftly.

"Not yet,"

Nodding, she turned back to Fanelli, "your call."

"We continue on plan. Engage with the gauss rifle and pulse lasers. Hold the _Swords _back and call in the _Yorktown _ to engage."

"Understood Captain,"

"Well General, this had better work," he noted, his eyes dancing across the status displays, "still, they aren't here in quite the numbers I had expected."

"Perhaps they held some back as a reserve?"

"I hope not," Fanelli glanced up, "it would mean that bastard in charge over there has at least a basic idea of what he's doing. If he decides to take too close a look at us…"

The icons on his screen shifted abruptly and he smiled, "they've spotted our big brother."

Then he frowned as the ship rocked and the icons shifted once more, two new red icons flashing up onto the display, "Bastard. He did have reserves."

"Called them in very quickly though."

The captain shook his head, "two _Ha'taks _ is enough to keep _Yorktown _ very busy, certainly busy enough not to be able to support us. In theory, two _Ha'taks _will finish us off very quickly and then they can go assist against our friend."

Carter caught on quickly, "if he has anymore reserves, he doesn't think he needs to use them."

"So, he gets to avoid displaying his full strength," Fanelli finished, "if this guy does have more ships… then he is dangerous."

Carter glanced at the Captain, considering. This may have been her plan with herself as part of the bait, deliberately leaked to the enemy, but Fanelli was still Captain. If he decided it was too hot, it was his word that was final not hers, despite her greater rank.

He shrugged, "have to deal with what we know and those bastards can kill us."

As if to emphasise his words, the ship rocked, a groan of stressed metal filling the bridge for a moment.

"Open the tubes on pods one and two and prepare to fire,"

"Pod Three Captain?"

"Hold in reserve," he acknowledged, then turned to Carter once more, "lets see how good these new missiles of yours are."

* * *

The two _Ha'taks _ approached the _Sir Lancelot _confidently, side by side. They knew the ship could damage them, but they also knew the ship didn't have enough firepower to cripple them, let alone destroy them unless it got really lucky.

They knew they had no reason to be afraid.

They knew wrong.

The portside of the _Merchant _ class ship belched fire, missiles speeding towards the _Ha'taks. _The _Ha'tak _crew was surprised and it took them several dangerous seconds to react but react they did, the two ships opening fire with anti-missile weapons that not a decade ago would have been unheard of aboard a Goa'uld ship.

Computer controlled anti-missile batteries, batteries carefully programmed with the full capabilities of the modified _Sidewinder _ and _Sparrow _ missiles of the Tau'ri but not of the _Swords. _

That omission could be forgiven; the _Swords _ had never been used in anger before, had never been seen by the Goa'uld. Failing to program the anti-missile system to adapt to unexpected capabilities and learn was however an unforgivable mistake, one that would reap its own kind of payment.

The _Swords _ were not modified atmospheric missiles, whilst they were capable of being used in atmosphere; they were designed from the start to be used in space. Just slightly larger then an old _Pheonix _, they had greater acceleration and a larger warhead then the missiles previously used but perhaps most importantly, more efficient manoeuvring thrusters and more of them. Combine that with a larger sump tank for the thrusters, operating under higher pressure and the missiles could manoeuvre and evade the entire way to the target.

Given their larger size, the _Sir Lancelot _ actually carried just half the missiles the _Liberty _ had during the previous Q-Ship run. More missiles would however have been unnecessary, before the first salvo even arrived; the _Sir Lancelot _ had rolled, firing off the portside tubes in the first and second pods.

The first _Ha'tak _ died, the missiles of the first salvo having simply destroyed it's the nearest shield segment then it simply fell apart under a rapid barrage from the _Sir Lancelots _ gauss rifle. The second _Ha'tak _ had more warning, its commander, cannier then most put the ship into a rapid spin and then threw all its available power into the shields even as its partner died beside it.

The second missile salvo arrived moments later, but the rapid spin meant that the missiles spread themselves against three of the four major shield segments of the ship. The shields held, but were severely weakened and the _Ha'tak _ moved back, content for the moment to watch the fight from a distance.

* * *

"Close on him! Let's see if we can't keep the bastard busy," Fanelli ordered, glaring at the blinking icon on the screen.

"Status on the _Yorktown __? _" he heard Carter ask beside him.

"Busy," he noted, his eyes glancing across his displays, "these guys are _good. _ One solid kill may be all we get before we have to leave."

Grimacing, she nodded her acknowledgement, "I would rather that didn't happen, but…"

She left the rest unspoken; they both knew the only certainty in combat was that Murphy would make an appearance at some point.

"New Contacts! One _Ha'tak, _two destroyers!"

Paling, he watched the icons flare up on his screen. The bastard _did _ have more reserves.

"Fall back! Ready pod three for firing! Charge the hyperdrive, we are _leaving. _"

"Negative on that last!" Fanelli twisted around aghast as Carter continued, "transmit on frequency twelve, single phrase… Evening Star."

"Evening Star?" he asked startled and then frowning, turned back to his console, noting with relief that yes, helm had moved from away from the enemy and yes the hyperdrives were charging and pod three was even reporting as ready. He wasn't a stupid man; stupid people didn't get to be starship Captains even if the ship in question was only a freighter not a warship.

He hadn't been told the whole plan. If there was a later, he and the General would be having _words. _

"New contacts decloaking! _Al-kesh… _but I'm picking up IFF transmissions. Gunboat squadron six."

Fanelli grimaced as he glanced at his displays, "they're going after the cripple… he mused, then grimaced, "still not going to be enough to win this one."

Carter nodded, conceding the point, her eyes tracking over the Captains shoulder as she watched one of the destroyers move to assist the crippled _Ha'tak _ even as its companions moved to bypass _Sir Lancelot _ and engage the _Yorktown __. _

Fanelli knew better then to think he could win against those two with two thirds of his missiles gone, but helping the _Al-kesh… _

* * *

_Sir Lancelot _ moved towards the furball of the six _Al-kesh, _ the damaged _Ha'tak _and the Anubis destroyer even as _Yorktown _began to extract itself from its own fight with the two _Ha'taks, _knowing that survival would become very unlikely as soon as the reinforcements arrived and it became four against one.

_Yorktown _ wasn't quite quick enough and found it self surrounded even as _Sir Lancelot _opened fire, the last of its missiles speeding towards the Anubis destroyer. The _Ha'tak _ finally died, taking two of the _Al-kesh _ with it mere moments before the missiles started to impact, shattering one section of the shields.

Then, the battle shifted again.

* * *

"New contacts! Receiving IFF beacons… _Seeker, Gettysburg , Watcher… _ and _Atlantis! _"

Fanelli found his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline and then with a sigh, he turned towards Carter, "you know I would have appreciated knowing that the battlegroup was involved."

"I tell you, you tell your XO…" her eyes turned hard as she removed her zat from its holster, "your XO tells the Goa'uld."

He considered this for a moment and then sighed, "We have _got _ to work on our communication. For the moment, let's make like a chicken and get the flock out of here!"

He turned back to his displays in time to catch both destroyers flicker off into oblivion, "it's not as if they need our help anymore after all."


	18. The Long Patrol

**The Long Patrol  
by chaos_eternus**

"You know, this sucks."

"I hadn't noticed," First Lieutenant 'Colt' Tyler drawled, sending an unamused glare across space at the _Viper_ holding steady on his wing, "but orders are orders…"

"Maybe," came the reply, "but this still sucks."

Colt sighed, shaking his head as he turned back to his own displays, flicking swiftly across the 'glass' cockpit, "would you rather be on _Thundersdawn _on Alert 5?"

He hid a grin at the long pause before his partner replied, "that sucks worse. I've been there, sitting in your cockpit, not allowed to get out even to take a piss, just ten seconds away from being in space but more often then not, never getting there."

"And when you do?" he couldn't help asking.

"It either gets uninteresting very quick… or it gets real interesting even quicker."

Colt snorted, "The age old rule of the military, 99% boredom…"

"And 1% I need new pants, stat!"

They shared a chuckle at that, even as they unceasingly gazed between their instruments and the black, star laden gulf of space outside their fragile cockpits, carefully not thinking about how strong the glass composite was and what damage a single speck of dust in the wrong spot would cause.

"Well Stardust," Colt noted contemplatively, "did you ever really believe you would get here?"

"I hoped," he replied quietly, "the boys in the Black Aces knew when I joined 'em out of the academy, it was how I ended up with this handle. But believe it? No, I don't think I ever did."

"Neither did I," grimacing, he glanced across once more at this wingman, "but then, a lot has changed."

"Yes, not all for the better."

Colt considered this, "true, but what can we do?"

A snort came over the radio, "our jobs. Keep Earth spinning with us on it and hope the politicians don't screw it up."

"Hah! Also an eternal truth of the military… I think we're missing just one now…"

"Hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait," Stardust intoned swiftly, "hell Colt, what are we even doing out here anyway. Its not as if anyone on route to attack Earth is just going to happen to stop right in front of us and allow us to report back. We're in the freaking gulf after all, there's shit-all here."

"That's true," his eyes rising fractionally as a blip flickered up momentarily on his screen, then disappeared after mere seconds, he shrugged inwardly, "as a tripwire, we're fucking useless, least 'till they can give us sensors capable of looking into hyperspace."

"Then why are we here?"

Colt sighed, "because the brass thinks the practise with the jump drives is a good idea, beause they want us to keep busy, because the small chance of spotting an inbound enemy is better then no chance, because they want to discourage the creation of outposts and monitoring stations in the gulf. Hell, because we're ordered to be here. Pick one."

The radio was quiet for a minute, "thought about it a bit have you?"

Colt snorted, "Not had much else to do when flying with ninja. That guy couldn't string two words of conversation together to save his life."

"Unless you're talking about…"

"Those useless fucking _Lancers._" They chorused together.

"You know what the best part is,"

"Oh?" Colt asked.

"Little birdie tells me he's going to be posted…"

He glanced up interested; there was just too much _glee_ in Stardust's voice.

"…to project whetstone."

"Whetstone?" Colt frowned, "haven't heard of that one."

"He gets to be the test pilot for the mark three _Lancers._"

Barking out a laugh, he shook his head, "oh that's just too beautiful. How the hell did that happen?"

"As I heard it, he may have been a little… indiscreet with his comments on the _Lancer_ when one of the Williams twins was in the room."

"Sounds about right," Colt admitted, "I've met one of 'em, or maybe both can't really tell, either way they got a wicked sense of the perverse sometimes but also somewhat of an understanding of humanity."

"Oh?"

"What's the better they tell ninja he's on whetstone until those 'useless fucking lancers' aren't useless no more?"

"That's evil,"

"Well it would take somebody with a fine appreciation of their issues to get those birds fixed."

They shared a chuckle at that then the radio went quiet once more.

"Three more hours of this…"

"And not even a gas stop to break the monotony." Colt replied swiftly.

"Tell me about it, least that helped keep things interesting."

"Not sure I would want to try it in these birds," Colt noted, "I've spoken to some of the _Lancer_ guys who've tried it, apparently that's actually easier and quicker in atmosphere."

"Now that says a lot,"

"I know,"

"Well lookee here," Stardust intoned, "that's the fifth time that blip has lit up then disappeared."

Grimacing, Colt reached up and grabbed the helmet on his compact spacesuit, clicking it swiftly into place. God, how he hated the thing… but one day he might hate being without that final seal even more.

"I'm sealed," he noted finally, "seal up yourself then give me a location."

"Sealing now Colt," came the swift reply.

Less then twenty seconds later, a nav point flagged up on his display; "copying to command now..."

"Like anyone is going to hear it for a few hundred years or so…" stardust pointed out.

"That's why I brought a loudspeaker pod with me,"

"Fuck, didn't see that."

Colt smiled, "it's on the other side of my bird that's why."

"Just need the geeks to replace the shitty radios we got with those vo'cume based ones and these patrols might just start doing some real good."

"Maybe, we still got that intermittent contact to check out,"

"Right," Stardust replied, "I'll play follow the leader."

"Back-off a bit too, just in case." Colt ordered.

"You want weapons hot?"

"Not yet," Colt grinned, "let's avoid the paperwork unless we have to k?"

"No complaints here," came the amused reply.

He nudged his controls, bringing the craft around in a slow economical loop that five minutes later had them closing with surprising rapidity on the unknown contact.

This promptly vanished in the brilliant glow of a thermonuclear explosion.

"Screw me!"

Colt found himself hard pressed to argue with the sentiment as he tried to blink away the large spot in his eyes, "You're filters catch that in time?"

"The hell they did, I can't see for shit!"

"Fuck," he groaned, "neither did mine."

"Well least we got one thing confirmed," Stardust muttered, "no way was that natural."

"No shit Sherlock," he flicked the 'manual' filter; a large pane of tinted glass down over his suit helmet, "don't think my eyes are getting better neither."

There was a silent pause, "call it in boss."

"Can't see the controls," Colt replied, "it's an add-on pod isn't it? No hardwired switch to go over to it."

"Figures," Stardust laughed, "tell me this isn't a government job."

"Had to be a self-destruct," he noted slowly, trying to view the control panels out of the corner of his eyes, "we'd be dead otherwise."

"Think it whistled up some unfriendlies at the same time?"

Colt paused at that and then shuddered, "SCM when you can't see? That just wouldn't wash. Least for landing, we can try and slave control over to the station…."

He heard a rhythmic sound over the radio and didn't need to ask to know stardust was bashing his head against the rear of his helmet.

"We can't can we?" he stated flatly.

"Eight steps on the touchscreens plus a ten digit security code…" came the dry reply.

"Next time I'm setting a bug-out button programmed for the sol system," Colt noted after a minute.

"The horse has already bolted,"

He laughed, "You're in a rather dry mood today aren't you?"

"Of course, not as if we get rain in space after all."

"True," Colt conceded, "but you're right. This sucks."

"Great,"

He didn't miss the soft, almost scared sigh that followed that, "problem?"

"I must have been looking right at the damn thing when it blew," Stardust replied, a shudder evident in his voice "can't see anything at all now."

He would have to admit that a chill filled him at those words, but in truth, not much he could do about it beyond trying to whistle up some assistance. Which, if he was going to be honest with himself, would be difficult if not impossible with his own eyesight as impaired as it was.

"Then we got a real problem," he finally conceded, leaning backwards in his seat.

"You can't see the controls well enough to send an SOS…"

"Naturally," it was Colts turn to be dry.

"Figures," came the reluctant response, "do you remember taunting Murphy at all this morning?"

"Well, I don't think so," he replied, "I'm sure I didn't mention anything about how the long boring patrol _sucked._"

Silence filled the radio and mentally the First Lieutenant notched up one in the win column.

"How long do you think it will take for someone to come and check-up on us?"

This he considered for a moment, "let's see, they'll give us five minutes to do the investigation before they start to radio us for an update. I give it three minutes of them trying before Peters is called to command then another two minutes to call us up before she declares an alert and bring all the defences in the Sol and Alpha Centauri systems to stage 2. Without an enemy on the scopes, I figure that will take about ten to fifteen minutes.

Then they'll need to decide what to send after us… figure 30 minutes total."

"You could have just said too freaking long," Stardust replied dryly.

"Hah," Colt replied, "how long do you then think it will take for them to decide what they're going to do with us. I mean, it's not as if the guntop is in town."

"She's not?" came the surprised reply.

"Saw her go,"

"Son of a bitch," Stardust replied, "so either we figure out a way to jump back or we see if the Colonials will let their big boy pay us a visit."

"Which will add even more time…"

"Yep,"

"Great," Stardust replied and then after a moment "so how did you get Colt anyway? Had a gun you wouldn't get rid of?"

"Guns no," he snorted, "horses yes."

"There's a story there isn't there?"

"No one I'm going to tell."

"Now I'm interested…"

"You can stay interested."

The radio went silent again, "it been thirty minutes yet?"

Colt considered this then tried to glance at the clock on the displays out of the corner of his eyes. This he failed at, with only peripheral vision, a clock that was dead centre of the displays and the narrowed view provided by the helmet it just wasn't going to work.

Taking his helmet off would make it easier but he wasn't sure he wanted to do that just to see the clock.

"Can't see the watch," he responded slowly.

"Fuck, this is going to be an age isn't it?"

"Yep."

"So are you going to tell me how you got that handle?"

"No,"

The radio was silent a moment, "sure?"

Colt sighed, yes this really was going to be an age wasn't it….


	19. The Dream

**A Dream…**  
**by chaos_eternus**

"I don't like this,"

The response was a wry snort, "do you think we do? Hell, do you think anyone of us here on God's Earth likes this? And yet, he is not malicious, what he takes with one hand, he gives with another."

"The risk is high," the First voice noted calmly, carefully ignoring the more religious overtones of the others words.

"And so is the potential for profit," a third voice noted, leaning forward into the dim lights over the boardroom table, revealing a tall, hawkish woman, her face showing imperfectly healed burns, "the Americans, they have already gathered together behind Boeing and already they work on their designs. The Colonials are even further ahead… but they are not of Earth."

"True," First noted, "And Boeing has been close to a monopoly on large aircraft production for some time, hence why Airbus was always funded by Europe ."

"There are signs that the Russian government may be making its own move and the Chinese…" Third shrugged, "who knows what they are doing? Lord knows half the time they don't seem to know themselves."

"It will be strange," Second commented, "this new realm, now it is open to us, it may well require both the skills of the shipwright and the aircraft designed to give fruit."

"If it give fruit," a Fourth voice interjected with a sigh, "the Military will not allow such a project to go ahead with their permission and given their control over the technologies such a project would require, if they say no, then we will be dead in the water."

"A point indeed," Second replied, "and whilst the Americans don't have absolute control over the Starfleet, they are the single biggest funders and the biggest provider of personnel. If their government throws its weight behind the Boeing led consortium…"

First shrugged, "In some ways the conservatism of the current administration will help us; they are unlikely to grant us funding but they seem to understand the necessity of not having all your eggs in one basket. They may well allow us simply to have an alternative should the consortium fail."

Second sighed, and rose from his seat, slowly pacing around the room and the fourteen still seated around the desk. As he passed between the dim lights they revealed a short chubby man wearing a suit that had seen better days and with eyes that told of recent pain.

"I do not like the idea of any monopoly, be it government or otherwise on Earth, it stifles the market. The costs if we do move, they will be high and have no guarantee of success nor can we rely on purely business funding."

"Grants are highly unlikely in the current financial crisis," Fourth noted, "it is all most governments can do to maintain the remaining infrastructure and provide some funding to the military. New infrastructure projects have dropped ninety-six percent since disclosure and grants to commercial enterprises… forget it."

"You are suggesting we put our own funds towards this project," Third noted grimly.

"Yes," First replied.

Protests filled the room at that suggestion and it took First a few moments to quieten the room, "I know the value of the personnel fortunes of everyone in this room has dropped massively since disclosure, I also know a few of you have near bankrupted yourselves in the name of philanthropy and aid but if this is to work, then we will need to gather funding from as many disparate sources as possible."

"We talk of a project that will cost Billions before the keel is even laid on a prototype," Third replied, glancing sympathetically around the room, "if it fails, the businesses of directly involved are not likely to survive it and with those businesses, will go what remains of our personnel fortunes. I am one of those who perhaps spent more in the wake of Disclosure then they should of, I gave ten million to the reclamation of London and Exeter but what I have left, I have already signed over to the project."

Silence filled the room at that declaration and it was almost two minutes before a voice sounded again.

"Where would the profit come from this?"

It was a new voice, young, trying to sound firm but all within the room caught the quiver of nervousness within it. Second sent the new speaker a nod of sympathy, knowing that the boy now controlled his families fortunes simply because there was no-one else alive in the family to do it.

"At first, we have internal traffic in the core systems, Sol and Alpha Centauri. At this point in time the capacity for shifting large amounts of freight and people in simply insufficient and the military has too many other concerns to take control here and provide the level of transport that is actually required. It would actually be to there benefit for us and others like us to provide more capacity, a fact of which they seem to be well aware."

First nodded, "then we have Edonia. Security will be an issue with that run but there are four slips being underutilized simply because there isn't sufficient freight capacity to support them. I'm sure the TSS wouldn't mind having an increased capacity on that route."

Second smiled, "and then, God willing, there are the Allies. The Orbanians are a prime example of a group planning on doing some major expansion but we also have two very distant groups being supported by our military. And who knows what expansion the future will bring?"

"I have had a few rough projections done," Third noted, "and assuming a ship capable of transporting some three hundred persons and fifty standard containers of freight, then the Sol to Alpha Centauri run alone may well require up to thirty ships within the decade."

"Only fifty containers per ship?" Fourth noted puzzled, "that seems somewhat small."

"Compared to an ocean going container ship certainly," Third replied, "but the difficult part is going to be the surface to orbit phase and that is the part where weight will need to be watched.

Simply designing a ship strong enough to hold the weight of fifty containers in air will be difficult let alone the added weight of all the engines and support necessary to get it into the air in the first place."

"What about Ro-Ro capability?" Fifth asked.

"The use of cars and similar on Alpha Prime and Freedom is minimal," Third replied swiftly, "roads between outposts simply don't exist… except where a dirt track for maintenance access follows the length of a railway. The way Alpha Prime in particular is being developed, one or two ships with the capacity to carry locomotives and the associated wagons would not go amiss."

"They have already designed that capability into the _Ha'tak _ refits haven't they?" Fourth asked.

"Yes," First replied, "at two gauges."

"The opportunity is there," Second noted, "the profits if we succeed are likely to be truly huge."

"Yes," Fifth cracked a smiled, "but trying getting Lloyds of London to do the underwriting…"

A chuckled filled the room at that, but it quickly died away as Third nodded, "he is right. We are talking about running combined cargo-passenger ships through a warzone and the devastation if something goes wrong or worse, is _made _ to go wrong on lift-off or re-entry…"

Silence filled the room once more then Third said simply, "The Americans think this can be made to work and I agree with them, but you already know that I am in on this one. The reason we three asked you here is that we want you in on it as well."

"In," Fifth said simply with a shrug, "and not just because the profits are likely to be huge. Just reducing the strain on the military freight capacity should have a major effect on their ability to keep us safe and alive."

"He's right," Fourth replied, "and you know the basics of the conditions Boeing are under. If the worst comes to it, these ships will be called to the defence of the homeworld as well, I have twelve grandchildren to consider. The chance for both profit and help keep them alive? I'm in."

"If we do this," a Sixth voice noted, "it might be worth considering a design that can be changed on the stocks to include either a Colonial jump-point drive or Goa'uld Hyperdrives. The first is cheaper and more then adequate for local work, the second will be necessary for longer routes."

"That's true," First noted, "but its also possible to include both within the same design."

"Surface to orbit will remain the bottleneck though and the main influence over the designs," Third commented.

"There is more then enough spare space on _Ravenbright _ then we may be able to push for a transhipment point there should it be necessary," Fourth shook his head, "but no such capability exists for Earth. Such a capability would mean we could go for far larger ships for the intersystem phase but we would need to expand the surface to orbit capability because that is frankly lacking at the moment."

First laid back in his seat surprised, "we may be getting ahead of ourselves here, first we have to build and design a craft capable of taking freight and passengers from system to system before we start talking about accelerating the capacity."

"No we don't," Sixth grinned smugly, "the Colonials are cash starved. Even if we would be operating in competition with them, I'm sure licensing or outright buying one of their existing designs would be manageable. Hire some of their engineers as well to start us off, contract with the TSS of course to have the design modernised, though the primary concern there would simply be the ships ability to defend itself and we could be active long before Boeing are."

Second shot Sixth an appreciative nod.

"Of course, the Colonials avoided bulk surface to orbit freight," Third mused, "if they needed raw materials they mined them in space, refined them in space, even did a lot of the manufacturing in space. Only specialist work was done surface side."

"The bulk freight was apparently primarily foodstuffs, particularly from Aerilon," Fourth noted, "if the records are to be believed that world saw more freighters in a week then the rest of the Colonies put together."

"We are not going to reach the level of orbital infrastructure the Colonials managed for many years," Fifth grinned, "the bulk of the work will still need to be done surface side. The bulk of the industrial capability is on Earth and whilst for now the bulk of the goods will be staying in system or going to Alpha Centauri, sooner or later the number of destinations and the amount of cargo to other destinations will increase."

"Transhipment," Third noted flatly.

"Sooner or later, it will be needed," Sixth smiled, "but I say if we do this we try it my way. Decreased cost, decreased risk, largely proven starship designs and with that as a core, then we can consider expansion."

"Agreed," First noted after a few moments, "but we should also plan for the Colonials refusing to release any designs to us."

"True," Second noted, his eyes glinting "but Six is right, they're cash starved. It'll cost like the dickens but I've no doubt that they can be bought."

"Still be cheaper then designing and building from scratch," Fourth nodded, "reduces the chance of Government interference too as we'll be increasing the Colonial cash-flow and that is being encouraged at the moment. Assume six months of negotiation and laying the ground-work… twelve to eighteen months for the construction of the first unit. That will of course go down once we have more experience… we could be operational within two years."

"In theory," First pointed out, "but I agree. The question is who's in?"

He glanced around the room and hid a smile as he received thirteen nods.

"Then, I believe we have some work to do."

* * *

I do not own nor do I claim ownerhsip of characters and or concepts from Stargate SG-1, Battlestar Galactica or any other non-original works contained within.


	20. Freedom Rites II

**Freedom Rites II**  
**by chaos_eternus**

Once, we were a great and powerful people or so we thought. We had a mighty, powerful navy, we knew all the enemies out there and we thought ourselves secure.

In a day, the Cylons wiped that all away.

A single day to end a civilization and to kill billions.

Now, we know a more fundamental truth, the universe is pain, its suffering and only through strength of will and determination can a life be made in it. It need not be your strength, your will, but in your society, your tribe you have to have enough people with the drive to hold the line.

I'm not sure how long I held the line during the flight from the Colonies, I am not longer sure I wish to know. Day by day struggling to keep the people protected and safe, knowing that not all appreciated us for what we do. That is apparently a failing our allies, the Tau'ri also have to face, and that brings me no comfort.

We made our bed many a year ago and in the end we thought ourselves safe from the consequences. In the end, we were brutally proven wrong, but perhaps there is hope in that. We know of the true threats in the universe now, we now how safe we always truly were, or perhaps it would be better to say, weren't. We know now that we had failed the greatest test, that of complacency.

We know now more of technology and fighting we ever did before.

It pains me that we are so dependent on the Tau'ri and the reckoning from that comes every day from Tau'ri who believe we owe them everything and who would see fit to have us as virtual serfs, to our own whose pride denies them the ability to see that, for the moment, we can not change this.

We are not the Twelve Colonies anymore, we are not a Nation in our own right, in truth, we are a protectorate. One with fangs but those fangs do not entirely belong to us, we do not own the shields, the gauss rifles, the pulse lasers and the thousand and one other things that make _Galactica _ alone capable of taking on an entire fleet of the old Colonial navy.

We do not even own the medicines which are keeping the imported Tau'ri diseases from ravaging our population.

Yet, there is hope. The Tau'ri who would see us as serfs have power but do not rule, our Navy though weak is strengthening, our 'native' population increases at last and in some areas, our morale could even be said to be high.

Our cash balance is negative still but from the meetings with the Quorum and the President, I know there are interesting feelers being sent our way that may well change that. We are growing stronger, slowly and given the chance, we may one day be able to claim a nation of our own.

But that will be the day we claim a system of our own for as long as we are bound to a single system we do not rule on our own, we will be forever at least partially under the thumb of the Tau'ri and that can not be.

One day, we must take to the stars on our own once more.

I will not live to see that day, I know it. Under the old rules, I would have been mandatorily retired by now, the End changed all that and for all my hands ache at the simplest of movements, for all it is becoming so much harder to rise in the morning, for all that I am beginning slowly to forget, I know I am needed.

I wish I was not. I am tired now, and would gratefully seek rest, seek retirement, yet I must not for who could I trust the entire Colonial Navy too?

Yet I must, for all that I hate what I see, I know what is happening. I am old now and soon that will make me a liability more then a boon. It is time for me to back down; it is time for me to choose a successor.

Many expect me to choose Lee. I think him ready for command of a ship, but an entire Navy? I have my doubts and there are certainly those from the Second Fleet who perhaps have more experience, more of the knowledge to run a Navy.

_Galactica _ is the key. My Old Lady is where I lead from and where my successor will lead from as well, it will be many a year before she is superseded as our Capital Ship. Whoever I chose to replace me here will be known as my replacement when I retire.

I must choose carefully for whoever I choose will have to lead the Navy from being a glorified system defence force into being an offensive force once more.

And worse, I know I must do it soon, I know the truth in my heart now. My time is fading away and I have one final duty to perform for my people.

* * *

They call her _Hell's Runner. _

Compared to _Galactica _, to the three _Sentinels _ and indeed, to the six patrol boats which make up the Colonial Navy, she is a toy, yet she is mine. I never thought I would have command, never thought I would have a ship of my own, never thought I would rise above grease monkey, yet I am here and I am proud of my toy.

She is no true warship, having been used simply as a tripwire since her arrival with the Second Fleet and having narrowly avoided destruction many a time yet now she is mine. She is another grand old lady, perhaps a little sportier then _Galactica _where I used to serve but the arrival of the Goa'uld and the truths they brought defanged her. She is no threat to them and never has been, likely never will be.

Yet, she is useful and because of that, I have a simple task before she truly becomes mine.

I must give this lady her fangs back.

True, she is marginally larger then one of the Tau'ri Patrol Boats but her design means she is not suited for Gauss rifles and certainly she has no hope of mounting any Ion weaponry. Pulse lasers are a simple task, as are the new Naquadah generators, shields are more of a technical challenge as are improved sensors but main weapons?

I have my doubts.

But in my doubts I find the answer. If she is not to be a main combatant but she is still perfectly flight worthy then what use should she be put too? This is a question that had already been answered; she is our tripwire so perhaps she should simply become a better tripwire?

The Tau'ri have a project they call AWACs which shows promise, the mounting of a sensor array equivalent to a destroyers aboard a hull as small as a _Paladin. _ In a hull this size, I could mount the array off a cruiser.

I'm sure Adama could find a use for that.

* * *

This is apostasy.

That these… 'Tau'ri' could claim the Gods were false, that they were alien degenerates. It is truth then that Earth is the place of lies. Lies they will be punished for when the time comes.

And the time will come, the truth will always out, the Righteous will always be victorious, how could they not be with truth and the Lords behind them?

For now I must hide the fact that I am still loyal, that I do believe, must present the face of a doubter in order to progress within the ranks of the Heretic controlled military. The day will come when the ranks will be purged of the unbeliever, when the righteous and just rule once more.

Then we will _make _ the Tau'ri acknowledge the truth of the Gods, of the Lords of Kobol and have them cast aside their foolish worship of their False Gods and Idols. That they could accuse us of worshipping false Gods… it is not us, it is they and they are truly blind not to see it.

So, we will have to make them see it, one way or the other.

* * *

What do I teach?

In the days of old I taught history, ancient history. In effect, I was teaching the word of Kobol as all we knew of ancient history came from the Books of Kobol. Now, I teach history. I teach the history of Kobol as we know it, but so much has been lost that there are huge gaps in what I can teach, in what I know.

In what is in the remaining books.

Or do I teach of the history of the Tau'ri?

So much more is known and there is certainly more I can teach but it is not our history. It may be part of our future, but it is not part of our past. Do I teach of the Book of Kobol as I used too?

But that is a book questioned and denied nowadays. There are many who would withdraw their children from my classes should I start and equally many who would encourage their children because of it.

Such teachings divide not unify and right now it is unity we need if we are to survive as a people. Already, I see a disturbing wave of fundamentalism in the streets in those who still hold true to the Word of Kobol and those who do not.

Already I have seen riots and the burning of a Church followed by the burning of books. There is a Tau'ri expression that comes to mind, those who start by burning books end by burning people. I wish in could say that was only true for the Tau'ri but from what I remember of our own past, I know that that is certainly not so.

We had our own monotheistic sects and there are dark times in our past when not believing in the Lords meant you could not claim the protection of the law, when believing differently meant you had no rights at all.

Perhaps history is not what needs to be taught here thought history can be the tool that is used to teach. Perhaps what should be taught is not believing simply because you are taught to believe but in seeking truth and making your own mind.

It would be a fine thing to teach that, but I doubt even a true Lord of Kobol could get humanity to understand that.

A human maybe, humans no.

* * *

We are not safe here.

Yet, where else can we be?

The Tau'ri gave us the tools to fight, to defend against more powerful threats then the Cylons ever were but obtaining those tools kept us here, in the firing line.

In the fight.

The Tau'ri, they have targets painted on their ships and on their world and through associating with them we have gained the attention of the Goa'uld. Have gained targets on our sides from enemies who never knew or cared we existed before.

We are no safe here.

Yet, here we are and for now, here we can not leave. Here lies our boon; our source of strength, here lays our burden, the source of new enemies, new threats. Hope and fear, light and dark all rolled into one.

We are not safe here but here we must stay. Therefore we must make this place safe, we must become stronger.

We do not have the strength to become stronger, we have to rely on another and as long as we do that, our strength is not our own, our protection merely the scrapings off another's table.

We are the weak; to survive we must be the strong. Maybe not the strongest, but certainly strong enough to give any single enemy pause. To do that, we need more ships, fixed defences, resources, people, and perhaps most of all time.

Time we can not gain on our own.

The Tau'ri, our boon, our bane. In associating with them we gain risk but we may just gain our time.

We may just lose our identity.

Perhaps this is what paradox truly means.

* * *

I do not own nor do I claim ownerhsip of characters and or concepts from Stargate SG-1, Battlestar Galactica or any other non-original works contained within.


	21. The War

**The War **  
** by chaos_eternus  
****Continuation of Live Free! And First Strike.**

This Ba'al was perhaps a greater threat then Anubis or Maktenos. Anubis was cruel and his advanced technologies lent him a great advantage, Maktenos trained his people better and perhaps had the best grasp of logistics of all the Free Jaffa's foes.

But Ba'al…

Ba'al was inventive, Ba'al knew when to fold and he knew when to strike. He was not above presenting a false face to us, and whilst he could be cruel and unforgiving, he was not needlessly so.

The last true System Lord was perhaps the greatest threat of them all. In him, perhaps the Tau'ri's Darwin had his proof. Survival of the fittest… and this man was certainly fit. It would not matter, he may be a fox but he is a wounded one and we are the hounds. He may wound us, in fact he almost certainly will but in the end, we shall prevail.

That I shall see it personally.

It seems strange to think that it was almost two years ago now that the search for Ba'al began. Two years of fighting, of dying, of mourning and of rebuilding.

Of expanding.

Ba'al stripped this space just to delay us, six worlds drained of all their refined metals, their people, their resources, all taken to one world. A world he fortified in the space of a year, created a computer into which he copied his own mind and then left.

No doubt he felt we would batter ourselves uselessly against the forts, be so weakened as to have to flee once more back to Free Jaffa space to regroup before returning here once more.

It was a simple desperate move for time.

It both succeeded and failed.

We have patrolled the local area, we know he is not close, but we have held ourselves here. With the help of the Tau'ri, the mind of Anubis has been purged from the defence grid and one of our most loyal has replaced it.

This system, its forts, its peoples are our now.

This is our base for the continuing war against Ba'al and a fallback position against the bulk of our space being overrun. It took some time to persuade the peoples that we are not their enemy, to turn this system to our needs, to be reinforced but we are ready now.

Ba'al, we come for thee.

I expected the search to take its time, I expected Ba'al to move as far away from known space as possible, the better to hide, to reduce the risk of discovery. Perhaps, I should have considered that more closely.

I had ordered for reinforcements a legion of _Al-kesh _ to scout out the stars in this quadrant of space and now, for six months they have been searching and finding nothing.

A doubt has struck me, what if Ba'al had not fled but had instead turned back, headed towards the known worlds, cloaked himself in the chaos that gripped what was once the unchallenged domain of the System Lords?

What if we had killed him and not even known?

What if, even know he hid unknown amongst the denizens of this world we know called ours?

What if…

I have lost many Jaffa and ships since that day so long ago when I was told to leave all that I knew behind to seek out and destroy this man, this parasite. In that time I have had almost no contact with the one I call family, a fact I regret even as her brashness sometimes makes me worry.

I know the council are watching closer now, becoming wary of my lack of news and wonder if perhaps my ships, my thousands of troops would be better employed against Maktenos and Anubis. I do not blame them but in this at least the time it takes for news to travel from them to here acts in my favour, a two month delay is both bane and blessing but it ensures at least that any such decisions will not be made quickly.

One of our _Al-kesh _ patrols spotted another _Al-kesh _ on patrol yesterday. The second _Al-kesh _was not one of ours but was not identified. It could have been Ba'als but it could equally have been another remnant of the System Lords or even a Tau'ri long range patrol though I doubt the latter.

I must know.

I have ordered twenty _Al-kesh _ and a pair of _Ha'taks _ into the area.

It appears the _Al-kesh _ that was sighted five days ago was a diversion. A raid was carried out on a secondary base of ours in which fifty of my warriors were killed, three _Al-kesh _ and a scattering of Udajeet were destroyed. More are missing, presumed captured.

The attackers used Goa'uld weaponry, it would be easy perhaps even reasonable to assume it was Ba'al but there is no evidence for that.

The _Al-kesh _ may not have been a diversion at all though think about it, the amount of forces a single _Al-kesh _ diverted was relatively insignificant and none were diverted from the world that was struck.

What is certainly true is that somebody has taken a dislike to our presence and that we will need to find out who it was.

* * *

These attackers, whoever they are continue to annoy. Raids, feints, bombs… these are guerrillas in the classic and nastiest sense. They drain my resources but actually appear to have few of their own, nothing larger then a _Tel'tac _ or _Al-kesh _ has yet been seen.

Ba'al it appears intends to keep us occupied and worse, I suspect he is trying to keep us _here. _ I think he himself has left this area completely… yet the attacks cant be ignored.

But the question still remains, for all we believe these forces relate to Ba'al, do they truly answer to him?

That is a question we have yet to find the answer for and I doubt the answer will be coming soon.

Two of my _Al-kesh _reported having successfully disabled one of the raiders _Al-kesh _ three hours ago and now one of my _Ha'tak's _ lies in ruins. I sent the ship to capture the _Al-kesh _ hoping the information we could draw from its computers and crew would start to answer the question of who are attackers really are.

The two _Al-kesh _ that disabled the craft in the first place reported a massive explosion aboard the _Ha'tak _ in the hanger bays mere moments after the captured ship had been drawn aboard.

The ship is lost along with much of its crew and from the sensor records; it appears a Potassium-Naquadah device was used. A powerful weapon indeed…

My heart says this is all perfectly in line with what Ba'al is capable of, my head says prove it. I can not and by now I had expected far more in the way of results then I actually have.

If I do not find answers soon, I may find myself being relieved of my duty.

Two of the enemy Jaffa were captured today. It should have been a major coup, we should have been able to obtain much intelligence form them, willingly or not.

We did not, they had none to give, not in their minds anyway, for their minds were not their own. Their bodies told us much though, for they were clones.

Imperfect, they would have a limited lifespan, perhaps a year at most before they would be destroyed by their own bodies but much can be done in a year. This enemy is intelligent, technologically advanced and ruthless. He also has access to many resources…

It could be Ba'al, it could be another threat.

This is a question I must have an answer to.

* * *

A major attack was launched against us today, seven _Ha'taks, _a _Rel'tec _ and five _Ha'tens. _

Ba'al has no _Ha'tens _, of that I am sure.

He certainly doesn't have _Ha'tens _ of Maktenos manufacture.

He was not believed to be active in this area, but perhaps he had the same thought we did when we settled ourselves in this region, to create a hidden place from which to develop, to build to grow and to prepare. No matter, this base, wherever it is must be dealt with.

But with it comes a question, Ba'al headed almost directly here, did he intend to take, the base for his own needs? did he know of this base? Did he intend to distract us with its presence?

More questions, fewer answers.

It is certainly not fitting Maktenos public image that cloned and mindless troops are being used and yet, ships were used that could positively be identified as his.

I do not understand this, nor do I understand how we have missed a facility of the scale that would be needed to support so many ships and clone warriors.

The attack was repulsed at least, though not without loss.

* * *

A riot was quelled earlier today and when the survivors were interrogated, it was revealed that they had been subjected to Nish'ta. Nearly one-hundred and fifty humans died in the riot before it was stopped and it appears few if any of them had any choice over what they were doing.

A brutal move, but an effective one. A gulf remains between the humans and my Jaffa and this has only helped to widen it. Already there are areas within the cities that Jaffa dare not go alone but I can not blame the humans for this.

It was Jaffa who subjugated them, who destroyed their homes and then dumped them on this world once they were longer of any use. I doubt I would find it easy to now see Jaffa as friends and allies under those circumstances as well.

Still, it has revealed one truth to us.

There is at least one Goa'uld hiding on my world and that I can not; will not stand for.

They must be found.

* * *

There was a massed assault on this world earlier, an assault that was beaten off but barely. From what I saw in the battle I believe the enemy was well aware of our mobile capabilities but seemed surprised by the strength of the mobile weapons platforms we inherited from Ba'al.

The ships and the equipment used was all Maktenos standard

This could be a deliberate ploy to think it is Maktenos we face but I doubt it, for all I hate Maktenos I would not accuse him of using cloned and mindless troops. Anubis I would, damn the hasshak! Whilst I would gladly feast on his entrails it is not him we seek!

If he has a hidden base here it must be eliminated but it will slow down our search for Ba'al even more, give the mikta more time to rebuild and regroup. I have little doubt now that Ba'al knew what he was leading us into, little doubt he knew of the fight that was to come.

To weaken us, delay us against Maktenos… to weaken Maktenos or whoever this is by using us to destroy one of his hidden enclaves… this is Ba'als work. I'll need more warriors, more ships for this now. That base will need to be swiftly cleared out and then Ba'al chased and I have little doubt he will have more surprises for us.

Luckily, not all the enemy escaped the system when the fall-back signal came. We have prisoners to interrogate and ships computers to analyse. Soon, we shall know where our enemy hides and then we shall have them.

* * *

We know where our enemy hides now, the ships computers we captured told us that much even as the cloned Jaffa failed to tell us anything. The nature of that enemy still eludes us however… there is no doubt that whoever this is has been combining technologies not just of Maktenos and Anubis but of the Tau'ri and others as well.

Not only that, but this base has been operational for at least seven years. Whoever created this base knew enough to know the System Lords were going to fail and prepare accordingly including the slipping of agents into every group possible.

It reeks of Ba'al but I doubt Ba'al would lead us straight to what has to be one of his most important surviving facilities just to delay us. The loss in equipment, personnel, technology… it doesn't ring true. It has to be somebody else's but whose?

And yet, another disturbing thought hides in the back of my mind.

As major a facility as this is what if it was Ba'als and he felt he could afford to lose it? What possible other surprises are there out there for us?

I do not know… in fact I am almost scared to contemplate it but we do what we must. As soon as repairs are completed, I will organise a raid on that base. In the meantime I must think.

* * *

It was a base of Ba'als and he was waiting for us.

The Mikta was waiting for us.

I do now know how I escaped, I do remember seeing six of my _Ha'taks _ destroyed in almost as many seconds, the sky being swiftly swept clear of my _Al-kesh… _the largest, most intricate planetary defense array I have even seen smash my fleet to shards in seconds.

I remember ordering a retreat… remember cursing as my last _Cheops _ died… remember calling back to our base and receiving no reply.

Remember arriving back at the world we had seized to see the planetary defence grid I was so sure had been suborned firing on the world below, surrounded by the shattered remnants of those few ships I had left behind as a picket.

I know now we were meant to capture some of the attacking ships, meant to attack, meant to break our backs against fortress Ba'al.

And that we are not meant to survive.

As I write this a squadron of twenty _Al-kesh _ are sweeping the system. Not fifteen minutes ago our sensors running on passive only picked up the death of my last _Ha'tak, _the last of my larger warships died almost twelve hours ago.

A surrender was heard from the world I once called mine about the same time, it wasn't acknowledged. Ba'al doesn't want anyone to know he is here and now, he is covering his tracks, making sure no-one survives to tell of his hideaway.

That shall not be.

A single _Al-kesh _ may be all I have left with which to fight but in this moment it isn't about fighting. This is about ensuring the Free Jaffa, the Tau'ri, the Colonials, all those who would call themselves free peoples know where this enemy hides.

If Ba'al wants to hide, I say we disappoint him.

Its time we showed him a war.

* * *

I do not own nor do I claim ownerhsip of characters and or concepts from Stargate SG-1, Battlestar Galactica or any other non-original works contained within.


	22. Freedom Rites III

**Freedom Rites III **  
** by chaos_eternus**

Before the end, I was an artist. I created in paint an impression of the world around, the boldness of my work and the lack of respect for the 'traditional' forms earned me much ire on my native Gemenon so I fled, taking my work and my future to Caprica.

I was never particularly famous or respected but my art earned me enough that I never had to seek out any other employment and that was enough for me.

When the end came I was on the _Chiron, _ making my way back to Caprica from an exhibition in which I had sold twelve of my works. Not the most successful exhibition I had ever done but not the least either.

In the cold, dark and painful months which followed I believed I had lost my art forever.

In truth, perhaps I had, my art is now what it once was.

Where before I created beauty, now I create harbingers, tools with which to wreck death and destruction upon our enemies.

_Vipers. _

This is no celebration of life, this is destruction incarnate and I revel in it.

Revel in knowing that those guns may one day do the Cylons what they did to us, take glee in knowing what I build may one day take some small vengeance on those who wrecked my home.

Take pride in knowing the small part of have in ensuring our military is ready to kill and destroy.

But maybe… maybe there is still about beauty.

After all, is not vengeance beautiful?

Does not destruction encourage rebirth?

As a forest fire purges and renews a forest so shall we purge the cylons and retake our worlds, reborn, stronger and wiser.

In that, there is beauty, in that there is art.

* * *

I don't know who I am anymore.

Before… before The End I was a nothing, a lowly serving girl, scrapping enough cubits back each month to feed and house myself with a small sliver on one side in the likely vein hope that I would one day save enough to go to college.

Now… I am a Colonial Warrior, a Marine.

I serve my people, help keep them safe... or that's what they tell me.

I don't know and I don't want to know.

Don't want to remember the burning figure of the cafes owner dropping into the basement where I was collecting some sauces, don't want to remember the fear as the building above me burned, dropping ash and debris all around me.

Don't want to remember crawling my way over burned and still steaming bodies to escape, don't want to remember what I found when I reached the surface above.

Don't want to remember being found lost and screaming four days later by five beasts wearing Navy uniforms or what happened next.

I should be dead, I wish I was dead… a part of me already is and I can feel the great gaping, pus-filled void its loss has left behind. But I survived and was 'rescued'.

And now, I serve.

I serve because it's easy, I have orders, I follow them, I have little need to made choices for myself for they are made for me. If I am lucky, the day will come when my service is ended forever and that small glimmer of hope, of a potential for peace is all that keep me moving, keeps me responding.

No, I don't know who I am anymore, don't want to know and don't want to think for thinking only brings out memories and pain. Let others do the thinking, the deciding, I am done with it.

It easier this way.

* * *

The worst day in my life wasn't the day the end came, it was the day my Doctor told me I would likely never had children. That there was a defect and I wasn't releasing my eggs as I should.

That I should learn to live with the hand the Lords of Kobol had handed me and reminded me that artificial insemination was for heathens, for the godless, not for the those who worshipped the Lords.

I hid my curses in my heart that day and like a viper they tore at my breast. It was possible to get artificial insemination even on a backwards a world as mine but it would be known and at many of the temples, you would be turned away.

Safer if you must to have it done offworld and not come back.

I never had the money for that.

And soon, the Lords took my lover away as well meaning I couldn't even adopt for that required a stable household, a father and a mother.

The curses grew more bitter in my breast and I wasn't always as good at keeping them to myself as many would have considered prudent. I honestly don't think I cared.

Then the end came.

Billions dead, fleeing, an uncertain future… and yet, for me it was a blessing.

For not only did I escape, but I escaped to the one ship which had more orphans then any other in the fleet.

Though not of my breast and loins, I had my children at last.

* * *

I try to remember what life was like before but I can't really.

I remember a laugh, a smiling face, and angel's eyes.

I remember a voice, deep and weary, eyes tired but with a twinkle in the corners.

I remember hope, love, I remember dreaming of the future, planning on being a _Viper _ pilot or a greengrocer. I remember thinking of all the wonderful things I could do, the places I could visit once I reached my majority.

I remember seeing.

The last thing I remember is a brilliant flash and then, I remember no more, see no more.

Now, I know voices, kind but often weary, I know sounds, the _Vipers _ flying overhead, the machinery of the factories, the rumble of voices in the streets. I know the feel of another's hands on me, always guiding, always controlling.

I know accepts both familiar for before, and those strange and new, Tau'ri.

I know taste, smell, sensation, sound.

I don't know sight, not now and with it, I know no independence, no life of my own. Every moment I step out of my shelter I have to do so under guard, protected from those around me, I move under another's sufferance.

I should be studying, preparing for exams, chatting with the other kids in the schoolyard; I should be running and playing, preparing for impending adulthood.

I can do none of these now and never will again.

I long for what was to be once more, I long for even the slightest control over my life to return to me once more, I long…

I long for mother, who never had an unkind word, for father, who even when his mind slipped into the past, into the riots, always had a hug for me.

I long to _see _them once more.

But its beyond me, I will not see them again until the Lords choose to claim me and I weep for what cannot be.

But I do not weep alone and a voice interrupts, a Tau'ri voice, brisk but compassionate. It makes me want to weep more but with the voice strange strings are placed in my hands and following, a strange soft wetness nudges my hand, followed by the sensation of fur.

The voice continues to speak and in a moment, a phoenix soars in my heart.

* * *

I do not own nor do I claim ownerhsip of characters and or concepts from Stargate SG-1, Battlestar Galactica or any other non-original works contained within


End file.
